


The Gift of the Phoenix

by verdeveritas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, F/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27029155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verdeveritas/pseuds/verdeveritas
Summary: Hermione wakes up with a tattoo of a phoenix draping over her back and shoulder. She doesn't know where she is. She goes to investigate and finds herself in Malfoy Manor. Draco Malfoy and a child, about four years old, are in the room. Her only thought, "Why the hell am I here?"  Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no financial gains from this story, it's simply for amusement.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 46
Kudos: 130





	1. St. Mungo's

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This begins during the final battle. This is a plunny I've given life to, and so far it's a one shot. I'm not sure if anything else will come of it. If you're interested more, please drop me a line and let me know. Enjoy! See below for some mood music. -VerdeVeritas
> 
> "The Battle Cry" – Imagine Dragons  
> "You Want A Battle? (Here's a War)" – Bullet For My Valentine

It was chaos. The smell of blood permeated the air. Screams and grunts when someone succumbed to a curse, a hex, or their immediate death for failing to throw up a shield quickly enough. Hermione was no stranger to pain, and she was accustomed to living in filth having spent the better part of the last year on the run living in a tent. She had never imagined this. She never wanted to imagine this. She'd seen war movies before she'd come to Hogwarts. She'd watched them on Friday nights with her Dad, because he loved them and she was happy to spend time with him. They didn't prepare her for this. This was chaos.

Hermione was flanked by Ron and Luna, trying to make their way to through the castle. She knew they had to kill the snake. The damn thing needed to die, or Tom motherfucking Riddle never would. Hermione knew Harry would do whatever he had to, and that was terrifying. She knew he would die to kill the murderous bastard who had ended his parents' lives, the cause of his godfather Sirius' death, the reason Tonks and Remus were dead now, too. He would do anything and everything to avenge them. He would fight to the end to make sure Dumbledore hadn't died in vain finding those fucking Horcruxes. She had to get to him before he did something stupid, like confront the snake-nosed bastard before Nagini was dead. She had to, had to, had to.

Spurred on by fear and anxiety, Hermione tugged Ron and Luna along with her, casting shield charms every which direction. The three of them operated well together having spent time in the D.A., and they watched one another's backs. They made their way through the courtyard, finding a grouping of rocks to settle behind while they caught their breath. It was a long way to the Forbidden Forest, and they wouldn't have much cover.

"Luna, watch our backs yeah? I need to heal these before we try to run for it," Hermione commanded.

"I've got you," Luna replied, immediately turning to keep eyes on the battleground around them. Her soft and lilting voice held none of the musical notes she was so used to, and it was disconcerting.

Hermione took Ron's arm in hers and healed the burns with some dittany from her beaded bag. He'd been clipped by an incendio he hadn't been able to deflect. "Thanks, Hermione," Ron grunted. He turned to help Luna.

Hermione pulled up her jumper to reveal her stomach. The curse scar left by Dolohov was still red and angry, and Hermione doubted it would ever be anything else. She skipped over it with her eyes, not wanting to remember that night. She didn't have time. She applied some bruise salve to her ribs where she'd been hit with some falling rubble from a bombarda. She'd managed to shield herself from the majority of it, else she'd have been dead already. She cast a diagnostic spell over the three of them. Aside from minor scrapes, Hermione was the only one in poor shape. She had three broken ribs. Quickly, she cast a brackium emendo to slot her ribs back into place and cast a stamina charm on all three of them before affirming they were ready to go.

None of them had had much sleep in months, and the stamina charm was a necessity at this point. They had a long way to go if they were going to catch up with Harry before the tosser got himself killed for no purpose.

"Alright, we're good to go. Let's get a move on before we're surrounded by Death Eaters. Voldemort said he would keep them off Hogwarts grounds, but I don't trust the fucker," Hermione said acerbically. She wouldn't put it past Moldy Shorts to have this Death Eaters come into the castle and kill them all in cold blood if he managed to kill Harry. They had to go.

Taking their cues from Hermione, Ron and Luna stood when she did. "Disillusion yourselves. It might give us a better chance of getting into the Foreset," Hermione ordered. With a quick nod of affirmation, all three of them were _mostly_ invisible to the naked eye. They stayed together with a tethering charm, so they could easily feel one another even though they couldn't see.

Hermione lead them to the Forest without incident, and she negated her charm. The others followed suit. She and McGonagall decided it would be best if they went searching in teams of three, to make it harder to be caught. Hermione cast a silencing and featherweight charm on their three sets of feet before deciding to go further into the forest. It would be best if they were able to sneak up on the psychopath and his sycophants, maybe they'd be able to get close enough to kill the snake.

They snuck quietly on high alert through the underbrush of the Forest. Unfortunately, it wasn't just insane murders they had to be on the lookout for here. All manner of creatures in the forest wouldn't balk at doing them harm, and they really didn't need the extra hassle right now. They were busy enough without having to contend with a troop of acromantulas or centaurs. Hermione was moving forward solely on instinct, and more than once her instincts had lead her to the best possible answer. That was not true today. After about ten minutes of searching for Harry, the trio stumbled into a copse with seven Death Eaters waiting for their Lord's orders.

"Fuck!" Ron hissed.

They immediately jumped into action, casting any and all curses, hexes, and enchantments they could think of against the Death Eaters. They fought hard, and they were better. The problem with using children to fight a war was the opposing soldiers knew more and had more experience than they did. Hermione reflected she often bitched about this exact thing to Moody, pointing out that no matter how they tried to protect the students of Hogwarts there would come a time when they would inevitably need to fight, and they would be woefully unprepared. She hated it when she was right. They should have been taught to defend themselves better. They should have taken proper dueling classes. They shouldn't have had to die because of the politics of tired men and the insanity of zealots.

Hermione, Luna, and Ron stayed back to back, throwing everything they could at the Death Eaters before them. Hermione took down two before she saw green light fly towards Luna's back, and she hadn't even thought about jumping in front of it to protect the witch. She knew she would die, but she didn't have time for a shield. Without thinking, Hermione Granger ended her own life in an attempt to save that of her friends. _At least they'll have one another,_ was all she could think before the Avada hit her in the side, and she blacked out.

Hermione didn't die immediately, she could hear snippets of voices, though they sounded as if they were underwater.

"…must have been wandless…"

"Does that mean…"

"No, I'm sorry…"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S NOTHING?"

"I'm so sorry…"

Hermione roused a little more when she heard singing. It was a sweet melody, and she could feel warmth enveloping her. _It's okay, that's okay. I can go now. I can stop fighting. I can't do anything else,_ and Hermione's consciousness faded to black again.

* * *

When Hermione woke, she was extremely disoriented. _Why am I awake at all?_ She struggled out of the bed in a room she didn't recognize. It was definitely not a hospital. There wasn't an acrid smell of death and detergent in the air which always accompanied a hospital or infirmary. There was no decay in the air, no feeling of grief hanging about like a ghost threatening to suffocate her.

She struggled to a bathroom, desperately needing the loo. The lights came up as soon as she entered, and Hermione found the water closet. Relieved, she went to wash her hands. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, stopping cold.

She didn't recognize this person. It was her, but it was not her at all. She recognized her face, and her eyes. She was wearing a silk chemise in the deepest green, which complemented her warm skin and chestnut hair wonderfully. Her hair was not the usual rat nest she had become accustomed to seeing. Gone was the frizzy, bushy mess, replaced with sleek, healthy ringlets falling down past her waist to tickle the tops of her bum.

"What is that!?" Hermione whisper shrieked to no one. She turned halfway in the mirror to get a better look. She found a tattoo of a phoenix beginning on her shoulder and gracefully slinking to her should blade and across her back. The phoenix's head sat on her shoulder, looking at her in the mirror just as surely as she looked at it. Hermione frowned, not understanding anything.

Hermione died in the final battle, or at least she thought she had. What had happened, and how did she end up in Malfoy Manor of all places? She had not recognized it, at first. The dingy and cloying air of death and Dark magic was missing, and the Manor felt lighter and airier than she had ever personally witnessed. As she ventured out of the bedroom she'd awoken in, clad in a dressing gown and padding on bare feet, she came to recognize the architecture she'd seen only once before.

Hermione wandered through the hall, looking for anyone who might explain how she'd come to be here. No one she knew would have brought her to Malfoy Manor…not since the Drawing Room. She looked down at the ugly scar scrawled across her forearm; "Mudblood," and suppressed a shudder. _You can do this, you can be here long enough to find out what happened. You can find out what happened to Harry and everyone else and then you can leave. It's okay, you can do this._

So lost in thought, Hermione hadn't realized her feet were chasing the sounds of voices, seeking them out with so many questions whirring in her mind and on the tip of her tongue that she'd no hope of articulating them all. She was around the corner, the voices had gotten louder. It sounded like a man, and a little boy? What?

Hermione rounded the corner to see none other than Draco Malfoy, and a toddler around four years old with blond curly hair in the sitting room. It looked like they were playing a game with stuffed toy dragons Malfoy was hovering in the air for the tot.

_"What the fuck?!"_ Hermione hissed through her teeth.

"Hermione, love? Are you alright? It's half ten, you never sleep that late!" Draco Malfoy sounded concerned, and he called her _love._ Draco fucking Malfoy was calling her love?

Malfoy finally turned to look her full in the face, and took in her state of shock. She was dishevelled, and out of sorts. Her usually soft chocolate eyes narrowed at him with suspicion and fear, and they kept darting past him to the little boy.

"Are you quite alright? Do I need to call the healer?" Draco questioned, his deep voice was laced with concern. A concern Hermione Granger had never heard in her life.

"Why the he- why am I here, Malfoy?" Hermione took into account there was a child in the room. Nevermind it was Draco Malfoy's child, she would watch her language. She watched Malfoy's face fall, fear and concern replacing the slight smile he might have had moments ago.

"Scorpius, please go with Winky for a little while, okay son?" Seemingly from nowhere, an elf popped into existence. Once the little boy was safely away from them and in the elf's care. Draco began to speak.

"Hermione, you're my wife. What do you mean, why are you here? Have you had another relapse?"

"No. NO! No, no, no, no. That can't be right, that can't be. What have you done? What did you do? Why am I here?! Where's Harry?" Draco took a step towards Hermione, who was shaking her head. She had tears falling down her face, and he didn't think she knew she was crying. Hermione leaped back, shaking her head in disbelief. She was gasping for air, she was going to pass out if she wasn't careful. Draco had become used to seeing her panic attacks, but this was something else. He had never seen her like this before.

"Love, love look at me! Look at me! You're okay, you're safe here. It's okay!" Draco stepped forward slowly, hands up in supplication trying not to spook her. She was hiccoughing now, muttering something under her breath that didn't make any sense. He couldn't make it out, he couldn't get near her. Usually, when this happened he was the only one she would let near her.

"Tilly!" he called. The elf popped in next to him, took one look at her Mistress, and snapped her fingers. Hermione began to fall to the floor, now unconscious thanks to the elf's magical ability to cause sleep. Draco cast a quick cushioning charm to catch her, before addressing the elf.

"Tilly, go to Potter Manor and collect Harry. Then go to St. Mungo's and have a Healer brought here. Tell them only that Hermione needs them," he ordered. Draco levitated Hermione into their bedroom and tucked her in. Dreading what would happen if she woke to find him near her, he pulled a chair up at the end of the bed to keep an eye on her in case she should wake.

"What the fuck is going on?" he asked himself in irritation. He sure as fuck didn't know. Hermione hadn't been this bad since right after the war had ended, and even then, she'd always known who he was to her. Hopefully, the Healer's and Harry could help.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. 
> 
> I don't have a beta for this, so any and mistakes are my own. You all have blown me away with all the comments and the bookmarks! Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter. <3 ~VerdeVeritas

Draco didn't know what to do. Hermione hadn't had a panic attack this bad for years. Not since right after the war, and she certainly hadn't ever shied away from him. He hoped there was a reason for this. He hoped it would be easy to fix. He hoped she didn't completely regress into a state of hysteria and paranoia.

He sat and watched her, his wand on his knees in case he needed to knock her out again before Potter and a Healer arrived. She had been seeing a mind healer for years. Why this all the sudden. What would have caused this? How did she not know her own son or husband? She knew his name, sure. That seemed to be all she had known, though.

"Draco, what is so urgent I had to abandon my wife and kids?" Potter yelled down the hall. Draco shot up quick as a whip to tell him to hush. Potter never was one for sneaking or subtly.

"Potter! Stop it! Come in here. I don't know what's wrong with her. She came into the room with me and Scorp and devolved into hysterics. She started asking for you and she wouldn't let me near her. I had to halve an elf knock her out before she passed out from lack of oxygen. I think it's best you stay til she wakes," Draco explained quickly.

"What? She has not had a panic attack in at least a year. I thought she was doing well?"

"So, did I. I don't know what's going on any more than you do at this point."

"Fuck. Alright."

Harry pulled up a chair next to Draco's, transfiguring a footstool that sat in the corner. They didn't have to wait long before the Healer popped in with Tilly.

"What's going on?" it was Hannah Longbottom. Thankfully, it was someone Hermione would know.  
"I wish I knew. She came into the room with me and Scorp and completely lost it," Draco explained.

Hannah, not one to waste time, went over to the bed and cast a diagnostic charm over Hermione. She read the results quickly, the corners of her mouth pulling down into a frown.

"This says she's recovering from broken ribs, a dark curse, and she's severely malnourished. I thought you said she was eating normally? And where did these injuries come from?"

"I don't know! She was fine yesterday, healthy. She's been eating fine, she certainly hasn't been hit with any kind of a curse!"

Hannah went to work, sending her into a deeper sleep so she wouldn't wake in the middle. She set to healing her bones, tipping some Skele' Gro down her throat that she'd had in her satchel. She undid Hermione's dressing gown and sucked in a grasp.

"When did she get this?" Hannah directed at Harry and Draco.

"She…didn't have that last night. What is that scar on her arm? What the fuck is going on here Longbottom?" Draco asked, panic evident in his voice. What the hell had happened to his sweet wife?

"Okay. There has to be an explanation for this."

"What the fuck could that possibly be?!" Draco yelled at the room.

"I don't know, Malfoy, but we'll get to the bottom of it. I think we should let her rest a while and then I will wake her, and ask her what she last remembers. What else happened?"

"She kept yelling about harry, waning to know what had happened to him. That is why I had Tilly bring him here. I thought it best he was here when she woke up," Draco supplied to the healer.

"That makes sense. You said she feared you?"

"Yes. She didn't want me anywhere near her."

" All right, then when I wake her I think it's best you're not in the room. It may just cause another fit of hysteria, and until we know what's happening it's for the best we keep her calm."

"That's…fine. But I will be right outside, and I will have a full report of what happens in here," he said seriously. His tone brooked no argument.

Harry dropped his hand onto Draco's shoulder, squeezing slightly for comfort. He and Harry were really only friends because of Hermione, but Draco would take what comfort the git could give.

"she might talk to me mate. We've been friends forever. It may have been a nightmare or something. You know she suffered a lot," Harry offered.

"I know. I was here to help her pick up the pieces. If she hadn't offered to enter the Death Eater ranks I'd be in Azkaban. She saved me, you know? And I can't help her," Draco said forlornly.

"It'll be okay. We'll figure this out."

" As it is, there's nothing to do now but wait. I am going to let her sleep a minimum of another couple of hours. She needs her rest. Her magical core is frantic, right now," said Hannah.

Little did any of them know, Hermione was at that moment reliving her death in her dreams. She was reliving the battle in vivid color, and she couldn't break out of it. She didn't know what was happening around her, but it didn't matter. She was reliving taking the curse for Luna. Reliving all of the fear and inability to help Harry. She was reliving the horror of harry jinxing her so she couldn't follow him into the forest. And she couldn't get out.

"Why don't you two go and get some tea? It will be awhile. I promise I won't leave her side. She knows me, that's why I came rather than one of the other Healers on staff today," Hannah offered with a small smile. In truth, she really wanted to inspect Hermione's body further. She was riddled in scars Hannah had never seen before, and some that she had. She wasn't sure what Hermione had been doing in the span of the past eight hours, but I had definitely taken a toll on the witch.

"Alright, but call me as soon as she wakes,' said Draco.

"Of course, I wouldn't dream of keeping you from her. I know how protective you are of her," soothed Hannah.

As soon as Harry and escorted Draco from the room, Hannah set to work. She had never seen Hermione with a tattoo, and she'd never seen the scar on her forearm. What kind of monster would have carved, "mudblood" into her arm like that? And what about the purple-red scar that began just under her clavicle and down to her hop. That one was definitely cursed.

Hannah set to discerning how to ease Hermione's pain, and remove the Dark taint from her magical core. The wounds on her body had healed, but they were still poisoning her magic. That much was evident. Hermione's magic was normal a bright, happy turquoise color, but there were dark stains eating away at the edges. Hannah c couldn't reconcile it. She'd seen the witch for her yearly appointment just months ago, and she wasn't covered in this mess. The tattoo alone would have taken more than that to heal if Hannah's experience had any merit. She'd seen more than one infected tattoo because a wizard dint' know how to keep them clean so they'd heal properly.

Hannah delved deep into Hermione's magic. She was severely malnourished and had been for what l looked to be months. She wasn't like this before. She was healthy and happy and loved her baby boy. She was talking about trying for another, and that was one of the reasons behind the appointment in the first place.

Hermione Malfoy was not a witch to be trifled with, and Hannah had known she didn't hide anything from her wizard. They'd worked too hard to be together after the fall of Voldemort. Everyone thought her so tainted with dark magic the witch had even spent a few short weeks in Azkaban, much to the protests of the Order and Harry. Alas, there was nothing they could have done for it. She had to be held and tried like everyone else.

"Dearest Hermione, what has happened to you?" Hannah whispered. She was nonplussed at this turn of events.

Hannah must have spent more time than expected trying to figure out how to cure Hermione's ills, for the with soon began to wake. Hannah didn't waste any time, and called for Tilly to collect Harry and Draco. Hannah wanted Harry there before she woke. Hannah knew one of the few people who had managed to soothe Hermione at her worst was Harry.

As soon as Harry was in the room, and after Hanah had confirmed that Draco was waiting in the hall, she began to gently pull Hermione out of her sleep a little at a time. She motioned for Harry to stand next to her, so she would see him immediately. Ince Harry was in place, Hanah touched the tup of her wand to Hermione's forehead and sent a gentle message into her mind to helo her wake.

"Hermione, come on up. Open your eyes. It's Hannah. Harry is here with me. Wake up and tell us what's wrong," she murmured.

"Hermione, it's Harry. Come one, love. Wake up," he gently coaxed. "I'm right here. Wake up and tell us what's wrong."

"Mmm. Harry?" Hermione's eyes opened, and she was immediately on alert. It was as if no time had passed. "Harry! Hannah?" She started to sob uncontrollably, as she reached for Harry and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Oh, Harry I was so worried! What's wrong with you? How dare you run off into that forest without letting me come with you to keep you alive? Don't you know what you did to me?" Hermione sobbed into Harry's shoulder as he held her close. Harry shot a confused look at Hannah, unsure of how to proceed.

"Hermione, would you take a calming draught? I'm afraid we don't know what's happened, and we need you to stay calm so you can fill us in, okay?" Hannah prodded with an even and gentle voice.

"Of—c-course," Hermione hiccoughed. She accepted the vial from Hannah and downed it quickly. She would love to stop crying, too. Harry held on to his best friend's hand while the potion took effect, knowing she wouldn't want him to be far from her. She had been like this before after some of her nightmares. After a few minutes, Hermione's breathing slowed, and she was breathing evenly. Hannah cast another diagnostic charm over the witch to make sure she could answer some questions.

"Alright, Hermione. Do you know where you are?"

"I think I'm at Malfoy Manor."

"Good. Do you know who I am?"

"Of course, you're Hannah Abbott," Hermione replied.

Hannah's smiled faltered a little at the answer, recognizing she didn't' remember her and Neville's wedding. "And what's the last thing you remember before you woke up this morning?"

"I was fighting in the final battle. I took an AK and shoved Luna out of the way. I felt some warmth and heard some singing and then I woke up here," Hermione explained. Her confusion was plain on her face. Hannah and Harry echoed the sentiments, but for different reasons.

"Hermione, what do you mean final battle?" asked Hannah. Harry sat on the side of the bed, still holding Hermione's hand. She was clutching him like a lifeline.

"The one where we were fighting at Hogwarts, trying to kill that psychotic bastard? How could you forget that?" Hermione asked, aghast. She didn't know how anyone could forget that smell or the sight of all the bloodied fallen on the ground around them.

"Alright, and can you tell me about this scar?" Hannah asked, indicating the deep purple-red one.

"This is the scar Dolohov gave me in the Department of Mysteries, before Sirius died," Hermione explained. She was still confused but was starting to get suspicious now.

"And this one?" Hannah asked, pointing to her forearm.

"Bellatrix Lestrange carved it into my arm with a cursed dagger, after hitting me with the Cruciatus. She was torturing me for knowledge about where we had gotten the sword in the _drawing-room of this very Manor,_ Hermione emphasized.

Harry frowned. Hermione had never been tortured. AT least not at the hands of Bellatrix. She had certainly pissed off Voldemort a time or two, like when she faked the death of Draco, but she'd never been tortured by Bellatrix, and she had certainly never been tortured here.

"Hermione, love, what about the tattoo on your shoulder?" Harry asked. His tone was curious, but he was getting scared. This Hermione was more broken and confused than he had seen, even after she had helped him to kill Voldemort and round up all the Death Eater's and sympathizers.

"This one is new. I woke up with it. I didn't have it when I was killed. Or, when I thought I was killed? I don't know, I can't make sense of any of it to be honest," Hermione let go fo Harry's hand, only to cover her face. She was obviously confused, and that worried Harry.

"Harry, stay with her. I'm going to go send a message," Hannah instructed. She stepped out into the hall to speak with Draco. Her husband was in charge of her care. Upon seeing her, Draco leapt to stand before she could speak. Worry was etched around his eyes and mouth. Long gone were the days Draco Malfoy hid behind a mask of ice. Hermione had broken him of that long ago.

"I think we need to get her to St. Mungo's. There is nothing I can do here, and I'm out of my depth. There's something going on that I don't understand. Muggles would call this a fugue state. She doesn't even seem like the same Hermione," Hannah explained. "I don't' think you should see her yet. She thinks she was tortured here, by your Aunt. She also believes that there was a battle at Hogwarts. She doesn't remember Neville and I getting married."

"Alright. I'll need to find care for Scorpius. I'll see if Ginny can take him for a little while. I won't go into the hospital room, but I will be there," Draco said. "See if Harry can go with her. There is no way she'll go without him. He was her main concern, and I've seen her like that before."

Hannah simply nodded and stepped back into the room. She had to get the witch to a Healer who might be able to help. Hanah was good, but she'd only been doing the job for a few years. She was out of her element, and she needed to do some research.

"Hermione, if Harry went with you, would you go to 's?" Hannah questioned softly. It wouldn't do to spook her. She was already spooked enough.

" Yes, yes, I'll go. I don't know what's happened to me. I keep getting these flashes of images, and they don't add up at all. I feel like I'm going mad…" Hermione started to leak tears again. She didn't even look up when she spoke to Hannah.

"Do you have a headache?" asked Harry. He knew all about those. He had them often enough when Voldemort was alive.

"This is so much worse than a headache. I feel as if my brain is being split in two," Hermione grumbled.

"Alright love. I'll pack you something and then we'll go, okay? We're going to take the Floo. Your core is a state of flux I do not like and that will be safer," Hannah said kindly.

Hermione could only groan, the pounding in her ears got louder and louder as time went on. She just wanted to go back to sleep. She wanted the images and pain to stop. She wanted it all to stop.

Harry cast his Patronus, "Ginny, Hermione has taken ill. I'm going with her to St. Mungo's. I'll keep you up to date," and his stag loped out of the room to find his wife. Although, he wasn't sure if Hermione knew that he and Ginny had married, considering she still thought Hannah was an Abbott.

Hermione didn't even bother looking up as Hannah and Harry helped her to stand and guide her to the Floo. She didn't stop cradling her head, and she most certainly hadn't stopped crying. Harry and Hermione flanked her on both sides, as Hannah dropped some Floo powder and firmly spoke, "St. Mungo's!"

Hermione hadn't seen Draco Malfoy's tears or worried facial expression. She hadn't seen him twisting his ring around his finger, a nervous tick he had developed after they'd been married. Hermione didn't notice the pictures around their room or the evidence she had been living there for quite some time. The only thing Hermione could see were images of two lives trying to reconcile themselves together in her fragile mind, and she may as well have been blind to the photographic proof of her holding her own son. Of she and Draco smiling happily together, posing on their wedding day. No, Hermione only knew that she was supposed to be dead. She could only see blood, feel fear and pain, see dead bodies littering the ground. All Hermione wanted, was for it to stop.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: HP is not mine. This is just for fun. 
> 
> Trigger warning: Mention of rape. There are going to be dark and rather unwholesome themes in this fanfic. Just a heads up.
> 
> A/N : I still don't have a beta, but hopefully this weeks chapter is better in regards to typos than last weeks. :) Enjoy ~VerdeVeritas

Draco watched Hermione leave through the Floo grate, feeling beyond destitute. Things had been good. They were always getting better. They were going to try for another child, actively try this time. Scorpius was by no means unwanted, but he had been an accident. Draco felt as if the last four years had never happened the way his wife had acted. His wife, his love, the sole reason he wasn't a murderer or a rapist. She was the only reason he hadn't given up and killed himself, because she was the one who had gotten him out. Hermione was the only person who really knew what it was like and didn't judge him for running terrified. Well, and Severus of course.

Hermione took his spot. She's the one who had helped Severus defeat the Dark Lord. Hermione was the one who faked Draco's death, without Severus knowing. Severus fucking Snape couldn't get through Hermione's Occlumency walls, not when it came to him. She'd hidden him far away from everyone and everything that had to do with old snake face, and she hadn't judged him for one second. She'd snuck Narcissa away, claiming his mother had tried to kill her on the way to a meeting. Hermione, sweet Gryffindor Hermione, had faked his mother's death and snuck her away to be with her son. The witch he had tormented for six long years was the only reason he was alive, and he was terrified to lose her, too.

After Hermione took down Voldemort, all of the Death Eaters were captured and tried. This, of course, included Hermione since she had a Mark. Never mind how facetious it was, the law was the law and Hermione wouldn't be seen getting preferential treatment. She was adamant if she didn't have to stand in a trial no one would ever believe she wasn't truly a Death Eater. Once she was finally freed, the Ministry had attempted to recruit her to be an Auror, but she'd decided against it. Instead, she had escaped to the country where she had hidden Draco and his mother. It was there he first witnessed the panic attacks and nightmares. It was there he fell in love with her.

It had never mattered how little sleep she had gotten; Hermione always woke up and read the paper with him. She knew he was searching for his father's face, trying to discern what his sentence would be. Narcissa had been beside herself when the verdict came down Lucius would be receiving the Kiss and sentenced to waste away the rest of his life in Azkaban. All Draco could feel was relief. Hermione had never judged him for that, either.

Now, his witch was dissolving into a puddle of tears and hysteria any time she looked at him. Any time she was awake she was a quivering mass of fear and pain. This was not his witch. She had always been so strong for him, and now it was all he could do to return the favor.

Before he had followed her to St. Mungo's, Draco had packed a bag with several of Scorpius' favorite things, and several changes of clothes. He told Scorpius his Mum was sick, and that he would be staying with his friend for a while. He took hold of his confused and worried child, whisking him away to Potter Manor via Floo. Ginny had greeted him along with James, the eldest of the Potter boys. He was the same age as Scorpius and they had often had sleepovers.

"James, why don't you and Scorpius drop his stuff off in your room. You know the drill. Mummy needs to chat with Mr. Malfoy for a few minutes. When I'm done, I'll come find you and take you both flying, okay?" Ginny said with a smile. She knew the most likely way to keep the two of them from wreaking havoc was to promise them a flying session. They loved to be on the broom as much as she did.

Both boys cracked wide grins before James said, "Come on Scorp! We can get you settled and we can change for flying!" Scorpius hugged his Dad, grabbed his overnight bag, and chased James from the room without much else.

Ginny hugged Draco when they were gone. "What the devil is going on?"

"Hermione had some sort of fit. She would not let me near her. She woke up screaming for Harry. Hannah said she has new scars, and she appears malnourished. Like months of malnourishment. I don't really know anything else. She was too hysterical if I was in eyesight. Harry and Hannah took her to St. Mungo's to be looked after," Draco explained.

Ginny's eyes turned soft and worried, her mouth turning down in a grimace of understanding. "Go. I'll keep him as long as you need. I can't promise he'll sleep through the night when he comes back because our wee daughter doesn't sleep for anything, but I've got him. Luna is teething, but I can always cast a muffliato on the boys' room."

"If you need anything else, just call for Tilly and she'll help you take care of it." Ginny nodded at Draco's back because he was already turning to see to his wife. His wife who didn't seem to know him at all. Sure she knew his name and his face but she didn't trust him. She seemed more afraid of him than anything.

He arrived on the first floor and was immediately greeted by the Medi-Witch behind the counter. "Room 294, Mr. Malfoy. They've taken her to the Magical Maladies ward until they can be sure of what ails her."

Draco didn't bother speaking, just gave her a curt nod, and went in search of whichever Healer had been assigned to his wife's case. He needed answers and he needed them now. Even at her most suspicious, Hermione had never feared him. He didn't like the way it felt, and he wanted it to stop. He didn't want to see her usually open and kind eyes filled with venom and mistrust.

He knew which room was hers without looking at the room numbers because Hannah was outside the doors consulting with another, elder Healer. True to her word, she'd found someone other than her who may have seen this before. Draco appreciated it but loathed the necessity. If didn't bode well, and was certainly not something he thought a calming draught was going to fix.

The Healer took notice of his approach before Hannah did, since her back was to him. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. I'm Healer Danforth. I'm afraid there isn't much news yet. We've only just gotten her settled in. Her headache was getting progressively worse, so we've put her to sleep while we run some more tests. You're welcome to stay as long as you like."

"I would imagine it's still best if I stay out of sight?" he hedged. He wanted to see his wife. He wanted to hold her hand and take care of her.

"I think that would be for the best," Danforth replied. Hannah echoed his sentiments, so Draco acquiesced and conjures a comfortable chair to rest in.

"She was making even less sense than before we had left the Manor. She kept saying she had to save Harry, that she shouldn't have faced so many Death Eaters alone, and that Dumbledore had died for nothing…I think it might have something to do with the curses that have been inflicted upon her. The Dark magic seems to be eating away at her magical core and causing instability," Hannah informed him. "Harry is with her. It's like she knows if he moves out of the room, even in her sleep."

"That's Hermione. The witch is always aware, I swear," Draco commented.

"Well, her Order of Merlin can attest to that," commented Danforth. "We'll get her squared away, it just may take few days." And with that, Hannah and Healer Danforth left his presence to do…whatever they needed to do. Draco sank into the chair to wait, for however long it should take for his witch to come back to him.

Unbeknownst to Draco, Harry, or her Healers, Hermione was currently trapped in a battle she didn't fully understand. She appeared restful to Harry, but in fact, she was waging an internal war, with what seemed to be herself. Hermione was trapped in a dreamscape, and of course it was Hogwarts. Half of the castle was as perfect as she had ever seen it, and the other half destroyed, just as she remembered seeing it during the war.

Hermione stood, facing herself, on the side filled with rubble and covered with blood and bodies. The other Hermione stood on the clean side, glaring at her as if _she_ was the imposter here.

_"That isn't how this works."_

_"How what works? And why are you in my head?"_

_"I'm in your head because I_ am _you. I'm just the you who originated in this time stream. Think about it, how else can you quantify dying and then waking up with Malfoy for a husband?"_

_"I can't quantify any of it. None of this makes sense. But first things, why are you in my head?"_

_"Like I said, other me, I am you. You are me. We are the same, but we made different choices along the way and had different end results. "_

_The Hermione on the side of the destroyed castle let out a frustrated scream and sat on some rubble. She was most definitely beyond help. She was losing her mind._

_"You're not. You're perfectly sane, but you've got two of you inhabiting one mind. I'm holding as much of our psyches separate as I can, but we're going to have to find a way to coexist in here since Fawkes decided you were worth transporting to another time stream. He gave up his life for you, you know? That's why you have the tattoo you don't remember getting. It's his gift to you. He's given you his lifeforce so you may exist here, and live a different life."_

_"I don't…I don't understand any of this. I was more than ready to let go. I was ready to die and move on with my life. I did the best I could for Harry, for everyone..."_

_"I know you did. It's what we do. I did the same, but I did it differently. It sounds as if the Healers are going to wake you soon. Harry hasn't left your side, as of course, we know he wouldn't. Be as smart as I know you are, and play along with a psychotic break or something. You need to pretend you can reconcile Draco in your life, because that man loves us, and we have a son with him. I will not have you destroying what I have built, and I will not help you without those terms being met. Is that understood?"_

_"You're saying you would what, kill yourself rather than hurt Draco or that little boy? "_

_That is precisely what I am telling you. Rather, I think we would go mad. I made plenty of my own sacrifices to make sure the man and son I love would and could have everything they ever wanted. I expect you to understand that. I expect you, me, to trust yourself enough to give Draco a chance while we figure this out. He'll never push you, that is not his way. You'll have time to get to know him while we figure out how to integrate…somehow. "_

_"This is immensely confusing, and I'm saying that. Of course, I would never punish a child for this. And oh, Fawkes..."_

_"Cut yourself some slack, yeah? You've been dead for a few hours," dream Hermione smirked in jest._

_"Ugh, you look like him when you do that."_

_"Yes, well, we are married to the man. You pick some things up from time to time."_

_"I suppose."_

_"And Fawkes made this choice on his own. He tried to heal you and he didn't get there in time, so he did the only other thing he could do for you. He sacrificed one of his lives."_

_"That's another thing entirely to need to come to terms with. I didn't know he could go to a different time stream altogether. That is what this is, correct?"_

_"Yes, but it's not all that dissimilar from the one you've left."_

_"I guess, if you discount our personal relationship with Draco Malfoy, it isn't..."_

_"Alright, the Healers are going to reenervate you. Do your best to play disoriented, and I'll do my best to keep the memories from warring in your mind. I'll try to figure out a way to merge them, but it might take some time. I'll be here, the next time you sleep. We can discuss it in more detail then."_

_The Hermione who thought she was the rightful owner of this subconscious only nodded to the perfect Hermione across the divide._

"…mione…"

"Hermione, can you hear me?"

"Mmmpf. Go away," she grouched at the voice.

"I can't go away. You've been asleep for several hours. We need to wake you and run some tests," said a male voice. Hermione thought she remembered it…Danforth? Healer? Yes, that seemed right.

"Fine. Turn the light off though," Hermione grouched.

She didn't get any response, other than a chuckle from what sounded like Harry. Of course, it was Harry. No one else would laugh at her while she was in St. Mungo's.

"Shut it, Harry. Turn off the lights," she ordered.

Harry continued to laugh but then reported that the lights were off. Hermione opened her eyes, only to find that at some point in her sleep she had pulled her sheet over her head. She lowered the sheet in a huff, not at all wanting to deal with what was facing her, them? Us? Horribly confusing.

She started with, "Where am I?" Maybe if they thought she had lost time they would chalk it up to a mental break and send her to a Mind Healer and let her out of here. That presented a whole new set of obstacles, but, it would be better than being poked and prodded by Healers. With Dream Hermione keeping the memories at bay, for the time being, it left her far more capable of acting the part than she would be otherwise.

"You're at St. Mungo's, love," replied Harry. "You woke in a right state, screamed at Draco, and he sent for me. Hannah ended up bringing you here due to some of your comments and state of being. Draco said you didn't even recognize Scorpius…"

"Scorpius? Where is Scorpius? Where is Draco, for that matter? I'm surprised he isn't in here shaking some sense into me right now. That is his modus operandi…"

Draco's ears perked in the hall, as he was obviously eavesdropping one everything being said in the room. She sounded calmer, if not exactly herself, which was to be expected. Hermione asked about him, which he was going to take as a good sign. He felt the faintest spark of hope deep in his chest. His witch wasn't completely gone. She was still here.

"Scorpius is at mine with Ginny and the kids. Draco, I would imagine, is sitting in the hallway waiting on the all-clear to come into the room. When you woke, you wouldn't let him near you," Harry said gently.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy get your fine arse in here!" Hermione hollered. He couldn't see her face, but he knew that tone of voice. _Hopefully, that was the right tone of voice. Getting things right from memories that are mine but aren't isn't exactly easy._ The other Hermione had been delicately feeding her a sampling of memories on how to behave because this Hermione _didn't_ know Draco the way the one from this reality did. Draco appeared inside the door frame, a hopeful smile on his face, worry displayed openly on his face for any and all to see.

"I'm fine you sod. Just a bad one, a really bad one," Hermione reassured him. "Come here." Draco sauntered closer to the bed, and she patted the empty spot next to her. She took his hand in hers, "I'm sorry to have worried you. I don't think I could tell I was awake," she said hushed.

Draco squeezed her hand, a pulse of quiet strength, "It's quite alright. I'm not a stranger to these. You are, however, staying your arse in this bed until the Healers have had their way with you. You're a mess, love. I don't know how you hid those curses from me for so long, or the tattoo, or why, but you need to be looked at. Apparently, the dark magic is eating at your core," he explained firmly. "And we are going to talk about all of it, later."

Hermione pouted but nodded slightly. "Fine, I will stay so they can do their tests, but there's no way to get rid of this. They are cursed scars, they're not going to go away. The dark magic is a part of me now," she trailed off and looked out the window. She was having a hard time being this close to him. It was extremely difficult to hold the hand of the man who had stood by and watched her be tortured on the floor in his home. It was hard looking into his eyes and showing anything but fear, and loathing.

" _This Draco isn't that Draco. Let me show you something."_ Her other self whispered to her from the deep, dark recesses of her mind, and then Hermione was in a memory, which clearly wasn't hers, but was.

_Draco Malfoy sat across from her in an abandoned classroom in the dungeons. He was young, probably fourth or fifth year. Gone was the arrogance, the façade he so often wore around the castle. He was terrified, and he didn't know what else to do. He knew his friends would flay him alive for meeting with the Gryffindor princess if they found out, but he didn't want to do this. He didn't want to be a part of this. He wasn't his father. He never wanted to be his father._

_"Why am I here, Malfoy?"_

_"I need your help. I need the Order's help."_

_"Why do you want our help?"_

_Draco took a deep breath, not wanting to admit this to the girl he had been ridiculing and tormenting for years, but he knew he needed to. He needed her to believe him before he became another in a line of Death Eater's. "Because I don't want to be a Death Eater. I don't want to follow that madman to my death. I don't want to be Crucioed anymore. I don't want to be a part of this insanity my father is undoubtedly going to sacrifice my mother, and I, to. It's my job to protect her. I'm afraid my father is insane. I'm afraid my Mum is going to be killed because of him, and I'm most likely slotted to take the Dark Mark over the summer. I don't want this. I don't want any of this. I never have."_

_"You've never seemed to mind until now," Hermione commented suspiciously. She had her wand in her hand, but not raised. Draco hadn't even stood when she entered the room, worried she'd hex first and leave him there without hearing him out._

_"I didn't have a choice! If I play nice with you then I'm ridiculed. I'm beaten every time your marks surpass mine! My father is not a nice, kind, or good man. He takes and takes. He wants to follow The Dark Lord, and he wants to offer me to him. The only thing I want is to save my Mum and myself from that life. I can't be friendly to you in the halls, even if I KNOW you're smarter than me, and even if I know your blood doesn't matter. If I'm seen doing anything other than antagonizing you, he beats me for that, too. He uses the Crucio when he's really upset with me. Granger, I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to hurt anyone, but I'm a fucking Malfoy and I don't get a choice. I have to act a certain way or it gets back to my Father, can you understand any of that?"_

_"I can understand you're stuck in an abusive home, yes. What I cannot fathom is why you didn't come forward much sooner to have yourself removed."_

_"You don't get it. If the Dark Lord hadn't come back, I would have ignored you. Calling you names isn't something that's going to irreparably harm you. But he is back. He's back and I don't want to take the Mark. I don't want to kill people. I can be a prat because it's expected of me, but I don't want to kill anyone. I don't want to be evil. If it weren't for this psychopath I could have gone on, and just outlived my Father, but that's not how it's going to go and I don't want to be his pawn. Don't you get that? I hate Pothead and Weaselbee, but it isn't because of blood…I just, can you help me?"_

_Hermione sighed, a deep and heavy sigh. "Why me? Why did you come to me?"_

_"You're Hermione fucking Granger? You've got the ear of Dumbledore. You're the smartest and brightest witch seen in ages? Because you're a Gryffindor and you care?"_

_"You could have gone to Dumbledore or Snape."_

_Draco shook his head, fervently. "Dumbledore would want me to turn spy, and Snape is a spy. I don't want him to have to worry about protecting me, he's already fairly busy. I don't want to be anywhere near that madman. I will help you fight, but I won't do it under his thumb. I can act, but I'm no Severus Snape. I'll crack as soon as he goes near my Mum."_

_Hermione didn't reply for a moment. She was shocked he knew Snape was a spy of sorts, but then again, perhaps she wasn't. She didn't reply for several minutes. Draco could tell she was thinking. It was the face she often made when she was concentrating in class. Hermione considered the teenager in front of her. Product of blood purist rhetoric. Product of an abusive and broken home. A young man desperate for protection for that of himself and his mother from a psychopath. Hermione just couldn't be certain it was genuine. The sneer was gone from his face. He was actually slouching for Circe's sake! Draco Malfoy did not slouch. For all that Hermione could tell, he had dropped his mask well and truly._

_"Are you familiar with legillimency?" she finally decided the only way to be sure, really sure, was to read him._

_Draco snorted, "Nearly since birth."_

_"I'm going to rummage around in your mind. I'm looking for things specific to what you have told me. I'm very good, so you shouldn't feel anything. If there's anything you don't want to show me, specifically, then just mark it with a red X. I won't go there. I won't rape your mind because you allow me access, do you understand? Do you consent?"_

_Draco looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and nodded almost as if to himself. "Yes, I consent."_

_Hermione tucked her wand away in her holster and approached Draco across the room. It was dirty, and it smelled of musk and old dust. It was as if this room hadn't been used for thirty years, and dust was so compounded on top of the desks. Hermione wrinkled her nose, annoyed by the less than pleasant scents accosting her nose. She flicked her fingers and cast a cleaning charm and sighed at the fresh scent. Much better, she didn't need to be distracted. Draco's eyes were wide, as he watched her. She was powerful, more powerful than he had realized. She could already cast silently and wandlessly. Hermione stopped in front of him, the desk separated them._

_"If you give me permission to touch you, I can be even more gentle. No one wants the headache," she smirked. This was also a test of sorts. If Draco Malfoy really didn't care about her blood status, then he would be fine with her touching him._

_"That's fine. Thank you. I don't need a migraine when I get back to the common room. Some of the snakes aren't so bad, you know. They want out, too, but the rest of them are…awful," he commented. Hermione nodded to show she'd heard him and leaned across the desk. She placed her hands on either side of his face, gently cradling him. One snake at a time. If Draco was sincere, she could look at the others._

_Hermione didn't say anything, and Draco certainly could not feel anything. She was amazing at this. He had been learning legillimency and occlumency since he was a lad, but she was featherlight in her touches and true to her word. He'd only had one area marked off, that he didn't want her to see, but otherwise, she was free to roam around in his head as she pleased. He didn't care, he'd told her the truth, if she could read his mind in truth then she would understand, he wasn't the boy everyone thought he was._

_Hermione waded through his memories, avoiding the only one marked for non-entry. She walked through his thoughts and found that he was entirely fearful of his father, worried for his mother, and he could not stop thinking about how she smelled like lavender and how soft her hands were. While odd, that was neither here nor there. She stumbled over some memories of him haranguing her on the way to class, and the emotions associated with the memory were guilt, not malice. Guilt? For harassing her? Interesting. She found one of him watching her study in the library as she read and nibbled on the end of her quill and felt only curiosity. Even more interesting._

_Hermione drew back from him and smiled. "Fine. I will help you. I'll help your mother. I will make sure you never have to take the Dark Mark. I will talk to Dumbledore and the Order. In return, the only thing you get to harass me about in the halls is my hair," she said turning her smile into a smirk._

_Though relief was plain on his face at her willingness to help him, he had to ask, "Your hair? Why?"_

_"Because now I know how much you really like it," and she grinned. She dropped a Galleon on the desk in front of him as he spluttered and blushed. "This has a protean charm on it. If you need me, tap it and send your message. I'll do the same if I need you. I have to get some things figured out before we can move forward, and you'll need to make sure your Mother is on board."_

_Draco could only nod as she left the room with a swish of her skirts and a flip of her hair. That he really, actually, did like._

Hermione blinked into the eyes of Draco Malfoy and she understood then why her other self had agreed to help him. He wasn't a sycophant. He was an abused teenager living in the only place he had to go. So, she gave him another one. At the moment she accepted her reasoning, the two Hermione's agreed with one another. Draco would have to know the truth. At least some of it. Her Draco Malfoy may have been in the same position but hadn't believed he could ask her for help. Choices could change so much.

"I know the scars won't go away, but we will find something. You shouldn't have to live like this. I'll find a Curse Breaker if I have to," Draco said firmly.

"Bill Weasley is a damn good Curse Breaker," Harry muttered.

"Would you fetch him? He might be able to help the Healers," Draco requested. He and Harry had learned to get along. Draco still found him to be annoying on occasion, but he was a Gryffindor. Though, Potter did have some rather Slytherin tendencies from time to time.

"Of course, I will. Then, I'm going home to see my wife and sleep. I'll be back later, alright?" Harry said with a smile. He knew Hermione. She needed to say some things to Draco, and he didn't need to be here for those things.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said warmly.

"Anything for you, big sister," Harry teased. He leaned over to give her a hug, shook Draco's hand, and left the room with a chuckle.

"What is it, Mi?" Draco asked quietly. He knew his wife. He knew that look on her face. She was thinking again.

"I need you to go get Luna for me. Can you please?"

"That…you know that actually makes sense. The witch sees things in a way no one else does. Not to mention, she's your other best friend, so, I suppose I can agree to that request. Can I make a slight, very slight, suggestion though?" Hermione quirked her eyebrow at him in a Snape-like manner, and he chuckled.

"Expecto Patronum!" he called. A dragon exited the tip of his wand, waiting to receive his instructions. "Give Luna Lovegood this message, 'Hermione is at St. Mungo's and wants to see you. Please come as soon as you are able, though it is not an emergency." His dragon nodded at him and flew through the wall to deliver the missive.

"Fair enough," Hermione said with a chuckle. Draco, unsure of his welcome, got up to leave the room and allow her time to rest. Hermione clucked her tongue at him in disapproval just before his feet left the doorway. Draco turned to her, to see she had shifted over in the bed. He smiled and joined her. A kip surely couldn't hurt. He hadn't slept for shite the night before and Scorp had gotten up rather early that morning.

Hermione didn't know what she was doing, but, with assurances from her other self, she knew this Draco Malfoy loved her. Maybe she could relearn to love him, too? And she had a son. She was here in this reality, and she had a son. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe she could learn to love him. Maybe she could integrate herself wholly and learn how to be a normal person. Maybe she could do a lot of things. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep in Draco Malfoy's arms.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hospital happenings, and Draco learns the trith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm a little late getting this one up, loves! This weekend was a bit hectic in real life. I hope you enjoy the chapter!  
> Beta love to MyPrivateInsanity! [I should really stop rushing when I type, the poor dear had a lot of work to do!]

Chapter 4

Draco couldn't sleep. He laid next to Hermione and listened as the breathing of the witch next to him deepened and evened out. He was too lost in thought to rest peacefully. She smelled differently than he was used to. Perhaps it was because of her being in Mungo's, but everything just seemed a little bit off.

Where had those scars come from? And that tattoo? What the devil was going on with his witch? Had she been attacked by some Death Eater who had evaded capture? Draco tightened his arms around his witch infinitesimally, and mentally made a list of every Death Eater who was still at large and might have the wherewithal to overpower his witch. It was a very short list, though he was almost certain Hermione had told him that they'd all been captured.

She hadn't wanted to be an Auror, not after the time she had spent in the presence of that megalomaniac. She used to have panic attacks from walking around the Manor before she had agreed to move in with Draco. It had been ages before she could stomach it. Regardless of Draco's willingness to defect, run, and hide, his father had not been willing to give up his place in the inner circle. The Manor was the Death Eater base of operations, and Hermione had suffered extensively there. Severus had done  _ everything  _ he could to aid in her safety, but there truly wasn't much to be done when the ringleader of their little circus was certifiably mental.

Draco had watched the gradual dimming of her fire with each raid. It had not happened quickly, but he could see it fade over time. She had told him once that visiting him had become her anchor of sorts. She had said he was a constant reminder of why she was doing this. All the pain and humiliation she had suffered at the hands of the other Death Eaters didn't matter, because she was doing it for him.

Draco had not understood her. Not really. He was a prat, and a prejudiced, hateful twat to her for years. Why should she care about what happened to him? Whynot just leave him to his fate? She wouldn't answer his questions, just flashed a wan smile, then asked how he and Narcissa were faring. Draco hated being cooped up, though he never once complained to her about his irritation. She was giving up far more than he was for his safety and the surety his mother wouldn't be tortured to death in front of him.

She looked now as she had then - her light had dimmed somewhat. It was as if she had taken two steps back, and he surely didn't know what had caused it. Yesterday she'd been herself. Normal, snarky, flirty, and loving. She had even taken Scorp out to fly for a little while. Their son was the only reason she would get on a broom. After all these years she still hated flying. Well, she hated flying on broomsticks, and it was something she was not good at.

Hermione was twitching in her sleep. This was not new to Draco. She'd been doing that since they'd begun sharing a bed. It was as if she was running in her sleep. Once she had even managed to cast a protego in her unconscious state, which Draco had to admit was rather impressive. Accidental magic usually came from a place of extreme emotion, though Draco couldn't say that it hadn't. He was not privy to her dreams. She didn't like to talk about them and he would not force her. She would wake, often afraid of what she had done or said in her sleep, and he would comfort her until she dozed back off again. It was the way they did things. Hermoine settled back into restful sleep, and not long after, Draco drifted off as well. The day had not been kind to him, and he was beyond exhausted with worry.

Meanwhile, Hermione was back in her dreams with the other version of her. The version of her that was far calmer and more collected. Just as before, she sat across from her other self at Hogwarts, waiting for her other self to instruct her on where to start.

" _ He knows something is wrong," she said. _

_ Hermione fixed her with a look. "He's  _ your  _ husband. I don't know how to go about this. I don't know how to make him understand what's happening." _

" _ He's a legilimens , so it won't be hard once we figure out what to show him. I've been working on putting together our lives and memories. It should make you feel more stable, once you wake, and give you more of a handle on what's happened in this time." _

" _ I hope it wasn't as grisly as what happened in mine. I'm not sure I can handle any more of that in my head," Hermione responded. _

" _ It wasn't like that for everyone. Unfortunately, we took the brunt of it for Draco and Harry both." _

" _ Sounds like us." _

" _ It does, doesn't it?" The Hermione sitting across from her wore understated dress robes, while she still wore her school uniform. _

_ She smirked at herself, "I guess you had better fill me in then. I can't very well be swanning about in Malfoy Manor without knowing where everything is. And I can't be terrified of the damn Drawing Room." _

" _ Ah. Yes, about that. I sort of fixed that memory for you. We'll still have it in our heads, but I've taken the…heat out of it, as it were. It's still not a great memory, but at least we won't be terrified every time we go by it," the other Hermione stated. _

" _ Thanks for that. So what changed here?" _

" _ Well, basically I took Draco's place as a Death Eater. He came to me and asked for help, and I couldn't tell him no. He was a kid, just like we were, except that monster was going to be living in his home. Draco is a Potions Master, you know, and he's going to be tested to become a Healer at St. Mungo's next year. He never wanted to take lives; he's always wanted to help people." Hermione snorted, but her other self continued with an annoyed frown. _

" _ I realize this might come as a shock to you, but there's a reason he lowered his wand on the Astronomy Tower. He couldn't kill Dumbledore, any more than he could have killed you. He doesn't have it in him, even though he's a prat at times. He's more like his mother than his father, and thank Circe for that." _

" _ Severus arranged our introduction to Voldemort. Of course we weren't trusted, and we never actually took the Dark Mark since our blood wasn't up to par" - here they both rolled their eyes - "but we did end up going on missions. Or rather, sabotaging them." _

" _ Would it be easier to show me?" _

" _ It would, but it would be a shock to your system, and you're still recovering from hopping timelines." _

" _ Eh. I'm in the hospital already." _

" _ But do you want to have to stay in the hospital?" _

"… _ Not really. Though I have to say Draco Malfoy is a fantastic cuddler." _

_ The Hermione across from her smirked. "You don't know half of it yet. He blew our mind in more ways than one." _

" _ The Slytherin Sex God myth?" _

" _ Decidedly not a myth," she grinned at her other self smugly. _

" _ Well, that certainly has appeal," she thought out loud. _

" _ Yes, it does." _

" _ Okay, show me what I need to know to have a decent foothold in this reality," Hermione prodded. _

_ With a heavy sigh, the woman across from her nodded her assent. "I should have known you wouldn't be willing to listen to me about this, even though you're arguing with yourself on the subject." _

" _ Yes, you should have," Hermione agreed sagely. _

_ The scene around them changed. They were no longer at Hogwarts, but instead sitting in front of Dumbledore a day after having spoken with Draco in the abandoned classroom. Hermione watched the memory silently, her alternate self arguing on behalf of the other Slytherin, and Dumbledore reluctantly agreeing to allow her to remove him from school and put him somewhere for his protection. Then the scene changed. Hermione and Dumbledore sat with Severus in the Headmaster's office, discussing how best to go about everything. Of course Severus was opposed to involving her at all. She would be at risk simply by showing up in his presence, much less after the removal of Draco. Dumbledore insisted, and they came up with a plan. The plan had taken weeks to implement. _

_ Hermione was introduced to Voldemort and subsequently tortured. He allowed his Death Eaters to beat her. Severus carried her back to Hogwarts that night, because she was certainly not able to walk. If she'd not been studying occlumency since her second year, she wouldn't have survived at all. Severus had helped her adjust her shields and nothing was getting into them unless she permitted it. _

_ The memories sped up, flashes here and there; Hermione recognized them as the high points of what happened. There hadn't been a final battle, not like there had been in her time, but there had been a fight. With Hermione and Severus on the inside, they were able to take the fight to the Death Eaters, instead of Hogwarts being destroyed. The Manor had been worse for wear, but at least no students were needlessly killed. Additionally, Severus had lived in this timeline, which pleased her. . Snape had been an arsehole, but serving as a spy would have likely made her an arsehole, too. _

_ Hermione saw images of exactly that - her being an arsehole to her friends and not being able to explain it. She obviously had a lot of secrets to keep, and she had kept them from everyone save Severus, Dumbledore, and Draco. Draco, she learned, had been the only reason she hadn't completely lost herself in her occluding. When Hermione needed a safe place to let her shields drop, she'd gone to the cottage where Draco was hidden. Draco would prod at her relentlessly until they would drop, and he would hug her to him while she screamed and tried to reconcile whatever nightmare she'd just been through. She'd been raped, she'd been beaten, she'd been tortured, she'd been forced to kill, and she hadn't had someone to save her from it. _

_ She saw the guilt on Draco's face in the memories; he couldn't hide it from her. Once she had been put back together, she would admonish him for feeling guilty, and boss him into studying for his N.E.W.T.'s. "What about the Horcruxes? What was the plan? How did we defeat him in this timeline?" _

" _ Let's save that for another time. You're about to be rudely awoken," Hermione said. "You should feel better now, more stable and even. I'll continue putting things together in the background, so we can merge properly." _

Hermione woke up, memories still running through her mind as if they had been a dream. Hannah was running diagnostic spells, and she smiled at Hermione when she'd noticed she had woken.

"Did you sleep all right?" Hannah asked in a hushed voice. Draco was still soundly asleep next to her. Not wishing to wake him, Hermione only nodded at the witch as she went about her business.

"Are you ready to talk about these curses? This tattoo?" Hannah prodded her gently.

Hermione shook her head, looking pointedly at the man sleeping next to her. She owed it to him, and to certain others, to speak with them first. Dumbledore might be dead, but Minerva, Severus, and Draco were not. She could discuss this with them. She would. And then they would figure out how to go about explaining everything else.

Hermione vaguely recalled Luna should be coming for a visit; perhaps the witch could help her get in touch with them and bring them here. She wasn't sure how to explain any of this, but Severus would know it was her. They'd spoken mind-to-mind on more than one occasion. Hell, for that matter, Draco would know she was telling the truth, but perhaps having his Godfather here would soften the blow.

Hermione was struck with the sudden urge to kiss Draco Malfoy awake, starting at the corner of his mouth and inching her way across until his eyes opened. She surmised this wasn't entirely her idea, but the other her pushing the thought to the forefront of her mind. Hermione mentally shrugged at the suggestion. After the slew of memories she had waded through with her other self, she certainly didn't find the idea repugnant. Not knowing how long it would be until Luna arrived, she decided to go with it.

Hermione shifted just slightly in his hold on the narrow hospital bed, and lightly kissed the right corner of his mouth. He barely stirred, so Hermione repeated her actions, a little closer to the center of his mouth. Eventually she heard a deep thrumming purr of contentment in his chest as he wrapped her more closely in his arms. Hermione chuckled lightly.

"Good morning," she said, plopping a light kiss on his cheek.

"Much better than yesterday," Draco replied, kissing her back.

"Luna should be here soon. I thought I should wake you."

"Hopefully she has something to say other than, 'I've no idea what transpired, but surely we'll figure it out. Just sit here in an uncomfortable room forever while we research for five hundred years,'" Draco mocked imperiously. He was being a prat.

"I don't care what they say, I want to go home. I want Luna and Severus' help," Hermione said firmly.

"You know Severus doesn't like to be out and about," Draco said, a little shocked.

"He's not going to be. That's why I want to go home. He will come for us, for me. Besides, he hasn't seen Scorpius in ages," Hermione smirked knowingly. She knew if her plight wouldn't move the acerbic man, Scorpius would be the motivation needed to put his potions under stasis and leave his lab.

Draco smirked back at her, knowing she was correct. Severus doted on Scorpius as much as any grandparent would have. His mother loved the little boy immensely, but the only people she trusted to take care of Scorpius in her and Draco's absence were either the Potters or Severus. She refused to have Narcissa swanning about and twisting her grandson's mind, much as she had allowed to happen to her own son. Draco didn't disagree, though his mother was far less likely to be a dehumanizing influence than his father, but she had been brought up to revile anyone who wasn't Pureblood, and he wouldn't wish that for his son. It had caused Draco enough problems.

"Fine, fine. We'll conspire with the other blonde one and get you out of here, posthaste," Draco agreed.

"Thank you, dearest," Hermione said with a smile. She didn't know how she was going to break this to him - but why did she care? It was strange, to feel so suddenly sweet towards Draco sodding Malfoy...but it wasn't unwelcome, knowing how the other her felt about him. It was quite odd, though, noo matter what way you looked at it.

Hannah came into the room and checked her vitals, seeming happy with the results. Hermione had a theory that the majority of her exhaustion stemmed more from being forcibly removed from her other timeline by a sweet, if somewhat misguided phoenix than from the dark magic that was eating at her. It had never bothered her before, and she had certainly grown accustomed to the feeling.

"You're looking much better," Hannah said happily.

"I feel much better. Can I go home now?" Hermione prodded.

"Not just yet, we want to run more tests," Hannah hedged.

"She's fine, Hannah. There's just two of her now," came a soft, lilting voice from the doorway.

"Luna! Come here!" Hermione was suddenly overcome with tears. The last time she had seen Luna, she had been fighting for her life. It was Luna she had taken the curse for. She dragged herself out of bed, and crushed Luna into a hug.

"Hello Hermione, it's good to see you again. Sorry I couldn't be here sooner; I was hunting the Crumple Horned Snorkack. I thought I was getting close too," Luna said with a soft smile.

"What do you mean there are two of her?" questioned Draco seriously. "Do you mean that she's pregnant? Lovegood, I swear if that's your way of breaking the news…"

Luna started laughing lowly, as did Hannah, and Hermione shortly thereafter. Draco looked between the three women, feeling greatly outnumbered and definitely as if he was being laughed at. "What?" he asked grumpily.

"She isn't pregnant, Draco. It would have shown up on the diagnostics," Hannah was still chuckling.

"Right. Right. What did you mean then?" Draco asked Luna. Luna just smiled at him and changed the topic. She wouldn't answer the question, and she made it obvious by pointedly asking him about wrackspurts. Draco rolled his eyes.

With the three of them working together, Hermione was out of Mungo's and back at home within the next hour and a half. Of course, the Healers wanted to argue with her, so she'd threatened to call the Chosen One in to escort her out. They'd eventually relented when she promised she would come back in a week to be looked over once more, or sooner if she started to feel off again in any way.

Draco took Hermione home, then promptly asked Luna to stay with her while he went to check on their son, inform everyone she was fine, and attempt to wrangle his surly Godfather into a visit. Luna readily agreed, and Hermione was glad for the development. She needed to talk to the witch privately; she needed her perspective on how to best approach this. Hermione gathered the witch had already figured out the issue from her previous comment made at Mungo's, so as soon as Draco had left to see to their son, Hermione got down to business.

"I'm glad you're here. I need your help, Luna. I don't know how to address this," Hermione said, handing the witch some tea.

"Well, of course. I'm glad you're both here. And also I'm sorry you died for the other me. And I'm sorry that because you died for the other me, the other you and you are sharing one mind and time stream now. It's all so very confusing… how can I help?"

"How do I bring this up to Draco? How do I tell this story? Do I hide it? Do I brush it off and insist it's nothing? Do I just...tell the world what has occurred?"

"I think you're on the right track with Severus and Draco. First, show Severus, then Draco. He'll probably panic, but after all, you're still the you that you were before."

"Am I though?"

"Yes, Mi, you are. You're still you, though you'll have different experiences from your timelines to merge and deal with. But you're still you, and you already fell in love with him once."

"I suppose you're right…"

"I've missed you, Mi. You're the only person that embraces me as I am, you know? And you always have," Luna said warmly.

"Well, you just see things that we don't, Luna. You've always connected the dots differently, and you're a damn good witch. I'm lucky to have you in my life," Hermione said with a smile, and she meant it.

Luna and Hermione sat and chatted for some time before Draco returned with Severus. From the disheveled look of her husband - ye gods, her  _ husband _ \- he and his Godfather had had a minor disagreement before he'd been properly maneuvered to visit. Hermione chuckled inwardly.

"What, pray tell, is so important that you pull me from my haven of solitude and potioneering, you infernal witch?" Severus snapped at her. He was amused though, she could tell from the very slight uptilt in the corner of his eyes.

"Can I just show you?" Hermione said seriously.

Severus sighed, sounding put out and as if the prospect was extremely irritating. She knew he was being facetious, though. "Fine, fine. Let's sort this quickly; I want to see Scorp before I trudge back to seclusion."

Hermione just smirked at him as she sorted her thoughts so they would be easy for him to view. She found it came easily. In her own timeline, she hadn't been the best at this, but it was much easier with the help of her other-self. It was very strange, the meshing of all her memories from both timelines. Hermione Granger would have never willingly called for Severus Snape, but Hermione Malfoy had no second thoughts about it. Stranger than fiction, this life she was living.

She opened her mind, and he rifled through her thoughts, searching for details. t felt like it took an hour, though she was sure it was only moments. Severus had taught both Malfoy and her, so it stood to reason he had no problems probing to find what he needed to see. When he broke the connection, he looked at her very curiously.

"I assume Miss Lovegood is here, because she knows things?" Severus commented tonelessly.

"Well, rather because she sees things others don't," Hermione replied.

"And I am here, obviously, to attest to the validity of this possibility, as well as to the truthfulness of the story?"

"Something like that, Sev," Hermione smirked.

"Witch. You try my patience," Severus said with a smirk.

"Hello, yes. Wife, and godfather. How about you inform  _ me  _ of what's going on?" Draco said petulantly, though he was smirking. Luna's laugh was tinkling and light as she sipped her tea.

Hermione's eyes shifted quickly to Luna, comforted by her lack of seriousness regardless of what was about to happen. "Err- maybe you should sit," Hermione said apprehensively.

"Alright…" Draco moved to sit beside her on the couch. "Now what is going on?"

"This is really difficult to try to explain, so I'm going to show you what I showed Severus. It's just easier that way, as I really don't have the words for this."

Draco only nodded. "Are you ready?"

"Not really, but do it anyway," Hermione quipped, her face full of worry. Draco gently placed his hand on her face and dove into her mind, not at all prepared for what he was about to see.

_ Draco swam through Hermione's thoughts and found himself standing in front of Hogwarts, though it didn't look anything like he had ever seen. Half of the castle was as pristine as he remembered it, and the other half of the castle was greatly damage. All he could see was fire, detritus of broken castle walls on the ground, and he could smell blood, and...were those bodies? _

" _ Hello, love," Hermione greeted. "Not exactly what you remember, is it?" _

" _ Not at all. Is this what you wanted to show me?" _

" _ Well, about that,  _ we  _ wanted to show you this," Granger mentioned quietly. Draco's head swivelled to the right, seeing another version of his wife looking significantly worse for wear. The woman on the left wasn't as scarred as the one on the right. _

" _ What...is going on?" Draco asked, looking between the two witches. In the time since Granger had been here last, her other self had done a significant amount of work. There were fewer fires to put out, and all of the bodies which had been nearby had been removed. The castle was still in need of repair, but she had been warned this was going to be a bit of a process. _

" _ Just stick with us, alright? I'm going to show you some things and I'm going to ask you to hold your questions until we're done," Hermione Malfoy commented wryly. _

_ Granger had let her other self take the questions and explanations. She would know better how to handle her own husband, and she was here, along for the ride and willing to answer questions asked. For the moment, she stood silently to the side. Draco nodded his assent, and Hermione started at the beginning of the story. She brought forth the different choices the three -two?- of them had made in the separate timelines. _

_ She showed him how his choice to ask her for help, and conversely his choice not to ask her for help, had affected their lives. One becoming Hermione Granger, who had "died" protecting her friend, and the other became Hermione Malfoy, who had instead infiltrated the inner circle with the help of his Godfather. The woman who had come to him for help when she couldn't break down her own mental shields. The woman who had come to love him, and given him a son. _

_ Granger watched some of the memories as raptly, as she hadn't yet seen them, and she had definitely not experienced them herself, or, Granger hadn't. Draco didn't speak, though he did scoff in a few places. He had, however,, held his tongue until the stream of memories caught him up to present time. _

" _ So, just to be clear, you," he pointed at Granger, "are actually from a different time stream altogether and were saved by a phoenix who brought you into our time stream, and now you share a body and mind with my wife?" _

" _ Err, yes I suppose that's about as far as we've gotten," Hermione replied. _

Draco broke the connection to Hermione's mind and promptly carded his hands through his hair in frustration. He looked up to see his amused Godfather looking at him.

"Why is it my witch is always putting herself into danger for others and then these things happen?" Draco questioned the room.

"You married a Gryffindor," Luna commented sweetly.

Severus barked out a laugh at her comment, and went to pour his godson a firewhiskey. It was likely he could use it after such a reveal. He handed the glass over to Draco. "I'm rather shocked you're not yelling yet."

"Give me time, Godfather. I'm sure I'll find something to yell about, eventually," Draco smirked at him while he took the tumbler and knocked back the beverage.

After a few moments, he looked at Hermione, "So, you're my wife, but you aren't. And you don't remember our life. And that is why you completely freaked out yesterday morning and why you were so exhausted, and why you wouldn't let me anywhere near you. Oh, and you're here because of a phoenix, and because you saved Luna's life in your time stream." Hermione nodded in affirmation. "Oh, Merlin. I...I let my bat-shit crazy aunt torture you. Here, in this house. Fuck!"

Hermione looked up at Severus, who raised an eyebrow at her in challenge. It told her to do something about this. Hermione Malfoy wanted to comfort him. " _ Sod it all,"  _ she thought. Hermione scooted closer to him on the couch and put her hand on his back.

"That wasn't  _ your _ fault. It has never been your fault. Specifically, you in this timeline chose to refuse to be a part of it at great cost to yourself, and the you from my timeline didn't see that he could have had a way out. I never blamed you for... _ that.  _ You were living under the thumb of a psychopath and you were worried about your Mum," Hermione soothed. She discovered, shockingly, that these were not empty platitudes at all. Rather, she had always felt that way, about Draco and what happened at Malfoy Manor. "I would not, however, be opposed to going to Chateau de Malfoi for some time, and completely remodeling the Manor…"

Draco took her hand in his, squeezing gently, "Done. Severus will just have to deal with our company."

"Lovely," Severus snarked.

"For the record, Sev, I'm glad you didn't die in this timeline," Hermione told the looming man. "And thanks, by the way."

Severus rolled his eyes at the witch, "I assure you, I'm also happy to be alive. I think. Most days." Luna started to chuckle at this. She had been quietly sipping her tea across from Hermione and Draco, watching the show.

"Perhaps we should all go? After you collect Scorpius of course. I haven't seen my godson in a good long while," Luna replied with a smile.

Hermione, now able to show her shock since everything was out in the open, smiled at her best friend. "Of course! I would have always made you godmother, Luna."

"Fine, apparently my safe haven is going to become a home for wayward Malfoys and Lovegoods," Severus sighed. He stood from perching against the liquor cart, acting put upon, but actually seeming rather pleased.

"Draco, go and collect Scorpius please. I want to get out of here, and quickly," Hermione commented. "I'll go and pack our things, and send the elves over to the Chateau." Draco nodded and left to collect their son.

Severus started walking toward the Floo grate after him. "I'll see you all there. I'll have the elves tidy the rooms and get everything in order."

Luna got up from her couch, and tucked her elbow into Severus' arm. "I'll go with you. They won't be long anyway and she is in no danger."

" _ That,"  _ Hermione thought, " _ is very interesting…"  _ and as soon as they had left through the Floo she summoned bags, clothing, and anything else they might need while they were in France. She couldn't leave this place quickly enough, truly. She was only handling it so well because the potency of her memories had been lessened somewhat. She called for the elves, told them where to be, and without a backward glance she called her destination into the Floo and disappeared.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This has not yet been looked over by my Beta, however, I may not have time to get it posted later this weekend. I wanted to get the chapter up for you guys. I'll fix it later, if it needs fixing. I think I caught a lot of the issues. <3 Let make know how you like it!

Hermione didn’t know what to do, now that Draco Malfoy had _not_ in fact dissolved into hysterical fits and started yelling at her for being a Mudblood who stole his wife. She did not know how to deal with a sensible and reasonable Draco Malfoy, who, upon discovering the reasons behind her sudden dislike for the Manor and general fear of him as a person, reacted as if he simply could not blame her.

In fact, it was almost as if he was an entirely different person, which is what the version of herself in the back of her mind had been telling her for some time now. Hermione, was apparently, going to have to be alright with being wrong. She never would have imagined any version of Draco Malfoy could accept her and love her as she was, but that was precisely the life she was living right now. She would not break her promise to her other self, because she was correct. Scorpius would not be paying the price for this strange turn of fate.

Ultimately, both versions of Hermione were still the same person, though they might make different choices based on their different experiences. That’s who we people are after all. A person is a congregate of all the decisions, choices, and experiences they have lived. A person will change when going through something difficult, just as much as they will when faced with great joy. A person is not a singularly faceted thing, a person will always have many sides and they will have a depth to them.

It’s entirely possible that Hermione had simply never seen the hidden depths of Draco Malfoy’s personality. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she thought it was incredibly likely she’d never seen him as who he truly was. Draco Malfoy, even at eleven years old, had had unimaginable pressures and expectations set upon him. He had been taught nothing but hatred and prejudice by his father, and his mother taught him to be better when she could, though Narcissa was just as trapped as Draco.

*Memory*

Hermione Granger, at thirteen years old, finally concluded that maybe, just maybe, she needed to look a little deeper at those around her. Everyone presented themselves as they would like to be seen, or how they were comfortable being seen. It did not necessarily mean that it was the truth of the person. In fact, this line of thought lead her to believe the opposite, that it was the least truthful version of the person in question. Hermione had never seen reason to hide deeply behind a façade in her early years at Hogwarts, but she had learned, eventually, that it was easier to do the things she needed to do if people weren’t always looking at her and mocking her.

Hermione learned to hold her tongue, keep her hand on her desk, and hide her true brilliance from anyone who was truly paying attention. She needed the truth of who she was hidden from these people if she was going to be able to tolerate their snide remarks and bullying. No, she would not give them the satisfaction. She simply would not, and in hiding herself and escaping their notice, she gained a far better insight into who those around her truly were.

She remembered sitting in the Great Hall, feigning reading a book, while in fact she was studying all the other students. She would surreptitiously peek from the corners of her book to look at the faces of people who didn’t think they were being watched. She noticed that more than any other house, Slytherin's house-mates were not friendly, and they all seemed sad and lonely.

Hufflepuffs were loyal, they were friendliness personified, but she also witnessed the ruthlessness the house possessed when one of theirs was wronged and needed to be avenged. Hermione would not be underestimating the Puff’s like everyone else seemed to. No, that was not wise.

She witnessed the Ravenclaw’s were constantly studying. They were friendly enough with one another, sure, they helped one another. But they were somewhat apart from the rest of the houses. Truly neutral in a way that the other house was not, or could not be.

Of course, her house, her Gryffindor’s were loud and boisterous. They were not ones to miss a party, but nor were they ones to miss a fight. Hermione perceived her house to be rowdy, but loving, and brave. What some lacked in intelligence they made up for with their other strengths. It wasn’t an easy house to be in, but they were like family like the Puff’s were family, they were brave like only those who had experienced true fear could be, and they were as aloof as the Slytherin house when they felt slighted.

Hermione had watched and observed that the Professor’s at the front of the Great Hall were worried and wary. She had watched them eye one another and watch the windows and doors as if something were about to come alive in the Hall and eat them all. Perhaps it would be the Hall itself. Hermione was not yet aware that the madman who had escaped Azkaban was rumored to be in Hogsmeade. Hermione hadn’t seen the paper or heard the whispers, but she had seen something was amiss. She could feel the undercurrent of unease slinking across her skin as if it would seek to poison her, too. But she would not allow it, no, she was far too busy trying to track everyone else’s secrets.

Dean and Seamus were glancing at one another secretly, from time to time. Generally, that meant something was going to explode sooner rather than later. They had hidden their smiles and been far too quiet this morning. Yes, they were absolutely up to something. Hermione cast impervious charms upon herself and her book silently, along with a protego for good measure. She didn’t feel like trudging back up to the tower after breakfast and then coming all the way back down to the dungeons for Potions because the two pyromaniacs in her house had decided to blow up some cake or other. No, thank you.

Harry had been anxious and on edge since he had shown up at the beginning of term, and Hermione couldn’t think of a way to ease his worry. He had been trying to break himself out of it, and Hermione hoped getting him over to Hogsmeade might have helped his mood. OF course, this was before she knew that Sirius Black was his godfather and that he had apparently broken out of prison because he’d seen a picture of a three-toed rat. Hermione thought, at this point, Sirius was determined to kill Harry Potter. Hermione, being who she was, refused to let that pass.

Ron had been right next to Harry since school had begun, and Hermione approved of the action. Regardless of how Harry could lash out when he was in pain or anxious, he needed his friends around him, and he needed them to understand him. Hermione hadn’t been intruding when Harry and Ron had a chance to chat, because she had sensed her logic would not be useful to this particular situation. Not until they were ready to hear it, and they simply were not. Hermione knew them both well enough to see they weren’t going to be able to see reason, not when one of them was terrified and the other was enraged. Of course, she would always be there when they needed her, but Hermione had put away emotions and hidden herself behind her logic. She would not lash out the way they would, and they would be upset with her about it.

Draco Malfoy sat at the Slytherin table, facing the Gryffindor table. From what she could make out from here, things appeared to be as normal. Though, Hermione could see a tension that was not usually present in Draco Malfoy. His easy confident demeanor seemed to be harder for him to effect today, as if he found it all so very tiresome and he would rather be anywhere else. Secretly, Hermione agreed with him. She would not wish to sit amongst the snakes and be in a similar position to Draco Malfoy right now, or really ever.

The less she had been noticed, the more she had been able to eavesdrop on from her fellow students. Of course, it wasn’t as if she had been doing it a purpose, but they simply ignored her more often than not now. Before they used to corner her in the hallways and tease her about her hair or her teeth. Now, they seldom bothered to send snide remarks her way unless something else drew their attention to her. She stayed out of the way, she studied them all, and she was still top of the class.

Hermione had been sitting in the library late, reading through an advanced Transfiguration textbook in an alcove seldom used. It was then she realized that people had begun to simply speak around her, as if she was unnoticeable. Not necessarily invisible, per se, but it was as if as long as she could stay quiet and not draw attention to herself, they wouldn’t see her. It was the same sort of magic which made sitting in a dark car and having a conversation with a boy so titillating and freeing. If you move the wrong way or say the wrong thing, you’ll break the spell.

Draco Malfoy and Theo Nott sat in an alcove across from her, speaking softly. Maybe it was acoustics combined with the quietness in the library, but Hermione was able to make out what they were saying, for the most part. They were discussing things that she’d never thought to hear of, and it was then she learned that nothing and no one was immune from hurt and parental pressures. Malfoy was speaking quietly with Nott about what had gone on over the summer, of what his parents had told him.

Lucius Malfoy was certain the Dark Lord was set to return, and he had told Draco in no uncertain terms, that he would be expected to follow him the same as his father. Evidently, his mother and father had fought about it all summer. Narcissa didn’t want her son anywhere near Voldemort, and Lucius refused to remove them from his lives. He was determined that Draco would be one of the Death Eaters, and Draco didn’t feel he had a choice. He didn’t see a way out of it, and he was terrified.

Nott essentially echoed Malfoy’s experiences and sentiments, except he didn’t have a mother to fight for him. He was at the complete and exacting malicious will of his father, and he would not find a way out of it. They were terrified thirteen-year-old boys who had no choice with their lives because their parents were determined to see them under the thumb of a madman. Hermione felt like weeping for them.

She must have made some small noise or movement, because both Malfoy and Nott had looked up at her then, to see her hidden in the alcove and looking at them intently. She wasn’t sure what her face was showing at the moment, but if she had to guess, it was despair. Despair for the profound loss of innocence and lack of caring these two boys had experienced from their parents. It was wrong. Parents were supposed to shield and protect you from the horrors of the world.

Hermione had expected them to show outward dislike and disdain towards her. She had been listening to their conversation, after all. It didn’t matter she hadn’t meant to. She had still heard every word they had spoken, witnessed every fraught moment of fear chasing across their faces. What she had seen when they’d noticed her was not disdain or haughtiness, but instead a softness reflected in their eyes and countenance. They knew she had heard, and they couldn’t do anything about it. They showed her with their faces and actions, whether they knew it or not, that they wanted to be different than they were forced to be.

Hermione vowed then, to remember what she had seen. Malfoy and Nott gave her a small nod of acknowledgment and left the library shortly thereafter. It wasn’t for several minutes after they had gone, she felt the cooling tears on her face. She hadn’t even noticed she had been crying for them. She might be best friend to The-Boy-Who-Lived, and she might be a Muggle-born, but at least she knew she was loved. She had no doubt if she told her parents everything that had happened in the Wizarding world, they would demand she leave it behind her so she would be safe. They wanted her safe and happy. Neither Draco Malfoy or Theodore Nott could say the same.

*Current*

Hermione came to herself standing inside the Floo grate at the Chateau, and she shook her head to pull herself out of the memory she had been lost in. She found it much easier, even with that one memory, to see why the Hermione of this timeline had decided to help Draco Malfoy. He had not tormented her so, and she had seen the truth behind the façade he had no choice but to hold into place.

She forced herself to move out of the grate and ponder this later. She was about to “meet” her son. Hermione could sense that she and her other self were melding together, less like two pieces of a whole they had been originally. She knew it would take some time to settle into this new life, this new version of herself, but what else could she do?

The Draco Malfoy at this time was both the same and different from the man in hers. How had they gotten here? How did they come together as a couple, how did they come to love one another enough to be married and produce a Malfoy heir? Hermione shook her head again and went to find Severus and Luna. She needed company, else her mind was likely to pull her back into memories, and she’d plenty to think on for now.

The Chateau was always one of her favorite places. It was light and airy. The walls may as well have been glass with how many windows there were. It was done in tasteful neutral colors, and accented with brightness, as if to bring the sunshine from outside, in. Hermione could use some sunshine. She could use a lot of sunshine.

Although she had died but days ago, and that she had been in the middle of a war and seen so many friends die, she had survived. She was here and now, not then and there. There were moments where she had to actively fight her instincts not to point her wand at anything that made noise. She was having horrendous nightmares, but sometimes they were broken up by lovely memories of the life she had experienced in this time.

That’s not to say it was all smile and laughter, here. No, she had seen death and destruction here too. She had seen cruelty and she had seen malice, but instead of focusing on the darkness surrounding her, she’d been able to find light. She’d been able to have hope, the whole time, that something would go right and they would win in the end. She’d never had that assurance in the then and there. She’d hoped, she’d wished, but she was always certain her best friends were going to die and it had subdued her. Her months on the run had subdued her. Something about this time had given her an anchor, and she had remained herself regardless of the horrors witnessed. And she had managed to fall in love. Somehow.

Sev and Luna in a sitting room a little way down the hall. They were sitting close together on a chaise and talking quietly with one another. They hadn’t seen or heard her enter the room, so she took a moment to do what she did best, she studied them. Sev had his hand on top of one of Luna’s, and he was openly smiling at her. Hermione hadn’t thought anyone other than herself, Draco, and Scorpius were privileged to see that smile. Something had been happening right beneath her nose with these two, but she couldn’t be upset about it. It made her happy to see it, actually.

Hermione knocked on the door frame to announce she had arrived. “Draco and Scorp should be here really soon.”

“Good, I’ve missed him,” Luna beamed.

Hermione smiled back at her best friend and could see subtle changes in her demeanor. Something about Severus anchored her, too. Something about his hand on hers brought absolute joy out in her friend, and it was written all over her face for any to see.

“How are we handling this where he is concerned?” Of course. Leave it to Sev to be pragmatic and draw attention away from himself.

“I’m not telling him anything. I’m still her, but I’m also me. I’ve got memories and thoughts that will help me, but I won’t scare him because it might make this transition easier for me. If I get lost or don’t know what to do, I’ll fade into the background so the Hermione he knows best can come to the forefront. I’m not sure how much longer we will be able to do that, though, so I’d like to find a way to be his Mum,” Hermione said quietly. She could admit to herself, even if only ever to herself, that she would like to live the life before her.

“You _are_ his Mum,” Luna said, tone brooking no argument. “You will see when he gets here, it’s not so hard as all that.”

“She’s right, Mi. You’ve always doted on the younger children at Hogwarts, and this will be no different for you. He’s your son, and he is easy to love,” Sev said seriously.

Hermione could only not at them, and hope they were right. Circe, this version of herself didn’t know how to be a Mum, but she was going to figure it out. She was going to be a good Mum, and a good partner to Draco. She would not destroy their lives, not if she could help it.

_“You will not hurt them. You are me and I am you. We are the same. I will help you in the beginning, and you’ll see for yourself. We are the same person, and they will love you just as they love me,”_ the thought came unbidden, but she was thankful for it. Hermione grinned.

“So how long has this been going on?”

“Oh, for quite some time, actually. I’m shocked it took you this long to notice,” Luna replied offhandedly, twining her fingers through Severus’ like it was old hat.

“Maybe I noticed but was wary of bringing it to your attention I knew. Maybe, I wanted you two to be ready to tell me,” Hermione prodded.

“Well, we’re telling you now, Mi. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months since Luna started helping me find some of those rarer ingredients. She was always out hunting something or other in the wilderness and brought me fresh ingredients. It’s still somewhat new, but I’m happy,” Sev commented. He smiled. He said outwardly he was happy. He had actually volunteered information about his personal life.

“Hell has officially frozen over, and I am incredibly happy for you both. You deserve joy,” Draco said from behind her. Hermione jumped a little when he wrapped an arm around her waist, but she relaxed and leaned back into him. Then she felt a tiny hand on her leg and looked down into the eyes of her son.

Scorpius was a beautiful little boy. He had a mop of curly, silver blond hair on his head, and dark grey eyes. The shape of his eyes and mouth all came from Hermione, but the rest was Draco. He was a strange mash-up of the two of them in truth. She took her son's hand and knelt in front of him, opening her arm for a hug.

“Hi, Mum,” he said softly into her ear.

“Hello there, little man. How was your sleepover?”

“Aunt Ginny let us play ‘uid-itch!”

“She did what?!”

“Relax, love. With a set for kids,” Draco said laughing at her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and decided to let it go for now. “Who won the game?”

“We-ell, it wasn’t a reeeal game,” Scorpius said drawing out his words.

“Oh well, that’s alright as long as you all had fun, isn’t it?” Hermione asked seriously, though she couldn’t help but smile.

“Yep! Muddy!”

“Of course, my child loves to be dirty,” Draco drawled, rolling his eyes.

“You’ll get used to it,” Hermione quipped back. She squished Scorpius into her side and kissed his cheek.

“Go see your Aunt Luna, and Uncle Sev,” Hermione instructed, releasing him. She stood up and turned around to watch Scorpius jump up on the chaise between his godparents, a smile on his face.

Draco’s hand found it’s way down to hers, touching gently as if asking if this was okay. Hermione twined her fingers with his and flashed a grin at him before looking back toward her son.

Scorpius was happily chattering away to Severus and Luna about all the trouble he had gotten into at the Potter’s, and Hermione could only look upon the scene with a quiet tenderness.

Draco pulled her back into him, so he could hug her. She whispered quietly, so only he could hear her. “I remembered about the library today. You and Nott, third year.”

“I wondered if you would remember that. I mean, even before this. You’ve never brought it up before,” Draco replied. There was a slight question in his voice.

“I think I needed to remember it today, given the situation. Our lives are so different, but so much the same. It makes me curious about what could have been if I’d made some different decisions then and there,” Hermione remarked.

“Well, you’ll drive yourself mad thinking that way. From what I saw when I looked through your memories, we aren’t all that different from them, you. In this time you witnessed a conversation that was private and hurtful and awful. We were horrified at what we were being expected to do, but saw no way out. Did you know you whimpered? It was a sad sound, that’s what alerted us that you were there, hearing it all. But I saw you looking at us, it wasn’t with judgment. There was this profound sadness reflected in your face and in your eyes. As if you couldn’t reconcile what you had just heard, and you were crying. Did you know you were crying?” Hermione shook her head. “Not until after you had both left the library.”

“It was the crying that kept me from lashing out. Nott and I, we weren’t great to you. Not as awful as what I saw in some of your memories, but we weren’t friends. And yet, you cried for us. For our fate,” Draco whispered in her ear.

“I thought it was wrong, and beyond horrid to have your parents tell you to your faces you had no choice in your life, but to lead a carbon copy of theirs. It was so sad, to hear you both talk about your fears and the inability to escape them. Parents should shield and protect their children,” Hermione said, with a hard edge in her voice. She would never be sorry for the fate Lucius Malfoy had brought upon himself. Never.

“And we will do a far better job of shielding our child than my parents ever did for me, I swear it,” Draco promised. Hermione squeezed the arms he had wound around her waist.

“There will always be dangers that we can’t foresee, but I’ll not have anyone turn our boy into a prejudiced child who can’t see a way out. I won’t have it,” Hermione’s voice was steel.

“I know you won’t, it’s one of the reasons I love you,” Draco kissed the shell of her ear, and Hermione wasn’t sure what to do or say.

“Shh, Mi. It’s alright. I know this is still…new to you. The point is, that I know you’re still you. I’m not going anywhere, alright?”

Hermione smiled to herself then. Of course, she had an anchor, and he was it. He was the one that kept her tethered in the here and the now, even though sometimes she might think she was there and then. He had been the one to keep her sane, while she took his place. He had been the one to break her shields down when no one else could. It was Draco. Draco was her safe place.

_”I told you they would love you, as they love me,”_ the back of her mind chided her.

_”Give me a break, yeah? I’ve only been here thirty-six hours,”_ she thought back at herself. Hermione didn’t get a thought back, but instead a sense of joy and laughter.

“I believe you,” she told Draco. She dropped her head back to rest on his shoulder, and they watched their son laugh and tease his normally austere godfather. At some point, Luna had ended up on the floor, mirth clear on her face. Scorpius may have only been four years old, but he was the marriage of the minds of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. He had rebellious and prankster Uncle Weasley’s. He had sneaky Uncle Notts, and Zabini’s. He had the loyalty of his Auntie Tonks. He was a mash-up of personalities and love and he was perfect.

Hermione leaned more solidly against Draco’s chest. “When you’re ready, I want another one,” he said into Hermione’s ear right before he kissed her cheek.

“I think we can do better than one,” she replied. She could feel his smile against her face.

The past few days had been beyond hectic. She died. She lived. She panicked. She laughed. She cried. Hermione didn’t know how to navigate the life she’d been brought into, but she knew the hands holding hers were reliable. She could depend on him to help her when she needed it, and she would take what he offered.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Desert Places  
> by Robert Frost
> 
> Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast  
> In a field I looked into going past,  
> And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,  
> But a few weeds and stubble showing last.
> 
> The woods around it have it-it is theirs.  
> All animals are smothered in their lairs.  
> I am too absent-spirited to count;  
> The loneliness includes me unawares.
> 
> And lonely as it is that loneliness  
> Will be more lonely ere it will be less-  
> A blanker whiteness of benighted snow  
> With no expression, nothing to express.
> 
> They cannot scare me with their empty spaces  
> Between stars-on stars where no human race is.  
> I have it in me so much nearer home  
> To scare myself with my own desert places.

* * *

Hermione whipped her wand at the source of the noise, startling her out of her sleep. She only had a second to realize it was Scorpius coming to jump on her bed and wake her up before she averted her wand to the ceiling, like cops do in the movies she used to watch as a child. With a whoosh of breath, she caught her running son.

"Mum, come to breakfast!" Scorpius mumbled into her shoulder. Hermione squished him slightly.

"Alright, alright. I'm up," her voice only trembled slightly. It barely betrayed her inner turmoil at nearly hurting her son. Scorpius pulled back from her, flashed her a grin, and ran back out the door. He must be taking her for her word.

Hermione put her wand down on her nightstand, very carefully. She pulled herself out of bed and went to the attached bathroom to splash water on her face. She couldn't control her breathing, and her hands would not stop trembling. Hermione rummaged through her clothing and got dressed.

She grabbed her wand of the table and went in search of Draco. She couldn't keep her wand. She was a liability to Scorpius. She had almost hurt him! What if she had hurt him? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! She couldn't do that. She could not. She would never forgive herself for hurting a child.

She could hear Draco and Scorpius chatting about something in the kitchen. She didn't have memories of this place, not really, so she followed the noise. The closer she got, she could make out Severus' voice, and the lilting tone of Luna. She followed the sounds down the halls until she came upon them around a table.

"Nice of you to join us," Severus commented when he saw her in the doorway. He smirked at her, and she ignored him. She was closer to this version of him than the old one, but she still didn't feel like they were friends. Not really. She could trust his sense of honor, and she had seen some of the memories of their time together, but she still didn't _feel_ close to him.

"I am not a morning person. Draco, I need to talk to you. Now," her tone brooked no argument. None, whatsoever. She managed to control the tremors in her voice, but barely. She could not risk Scorpius. He was just a boy, and she could have seriously hurt him out of reflex. Hermione turned on her heel and left the room. She knew Draco would follow.

She kept walking until they were a fair way away from the kitchen. She didn't want to be overheard. She ended up in the sitting room from the night before, face in her hands, elbows supported by her knees. She had placed her wand in front of her. Draco came in shortly after at a hurried pace, probably wondering what was wrong.

"You have to take my wand," she said with no preamble.

"'What? What are you talking about?"

"I'm not safe. I have war reflexes. Take. My. Wand!" Hermione yelled at him.

"What are you on about, Hermione?" Draco asked again. He thought she was having another flashback, maybe. Her breath was coming fast, and her hands were trembling even though they were on her face.

"Draco, I almost hexed Scorpius. I could have killed him! Take my fucking wand! I can't be trusted with it. I'm too used to being snuck up on by enemies. I can't have my wand. I'm a danger to him. What about that do you not understand?" Hermione seethed at him. She was terrified, and furious at herself.

Draco paled as she spoke, sliding down into the chair across from her. "Fuck. I didn't even think of that. But Scorpius is fine, you stopped in time. It's okay, Hermione. If you don't think it's safe to have your wand, I'll hold it for you," Draco replied quietly. He didn't seem to have it in him to speak any more loudly. Hermione only nodded at him once.

"He really is fine, Mi. It's okay, we'll just make sure it doesn't happen again," Draco stood, slowly, as though he still had not regained his strength. He made his way over and knelt in front of her, taking one hand away from her face gently. "You're okay. He's okay."

"What if I were slower? I could have killed him, Draco. He's just…he's only a little boy and I could have killed him!" Hermione started to wail, completely distraught at the idea. Draco gathered her in his arms, rubbing his hand slowly in circles on her back and making soothing noises. He had no idea how long they sat there, like that, before she had calmed down.

Hermione stood, slowly. She was a complete and utter mess. Draco instructed her to go and get cleaned up before getting some breakfast. Hermione did not acknowledge him, she just went back in the direction of their room. Draco pocketed her wand for safekeeping and went back to the kitchen. Severus and Luna looked at him oddly when he entered, but he shook his head. "Later," it said. Draco could tell from her reaction Hermione was not in a good place.

Dingy. That's how she felt. Encased in dirt and grime, blood-soaked and unworthy. Hermione didn't deserve any of this. She didn't deserve a nice home, or a family. She didn't even know where her parents were in this timeline; much less if they were alive. But it didn't matter, because she had wiped their memories and they didn't know her. They would never know she had died. Hermione would never know if Harry died. She vacated the seat she'd just occupied, intent on being alone and unmolested with these thoughts. She was not fit for companionship.

Not uttering a word, she left the room and those in it to eat and chat. She had far more self-loathing to manage, and she could do that better if she were left alone without the eyes of others silently inquiring as to her state of mind. She couldn't do this. She couldn't. Scorpius deserved his mother. That wasn't her, it would never really be her. She occupied the same body, sort of, but she was not the same witch these people had come to love.

Finding an obviously disused room, Hermione plopped down on the mahogany and green cushioned settee and pulled her knees to her chest. She was not worth this. What had Fawkes been thinking? Why had he not risked all for Dumbledore, instead of her? She'd barely interacted with the Phoenix, why should he care whether she had lived or died? None of it made any sense.

Grasping her head in her hands, she uttered a low, miserable groan. She was getting a migraine, or rather, _definitely_ had one now. She was glad for the heavy curtains over the windows as her eyes began to pulse in time with her heartbeat. Hermione gave up on sitting and lay prone hoping to assuage some of the pain blooming behind her eyes. It smelled of disuse and dust, and she wrinkled her nose. _Dirty and unworthy of light, just like me._

Last night she had begged Severus to rupture the Occlumency shields. She couldn't maintain them for much longer. She was nearly positive, and so was Severus, that it was really the only way to merge the two versions of herself living in her mind. They were so different, even the way they imagined their shared mindscape was split down the center. That really should have been her first clue, but she didn't truly understand how Occlumency worked, Severus knew probably better than anyone.

The other version of herself had walled the memories up so tightly, the only way she could get at them was by sleeping and conferring with her. It was going to take time, too much time, and she might hurt Scorpius. Hermione would not hurt an innocent little boy. She would not. If it meant she might go insane from the rush of memories, so be it. They could lock her away in the Janus Thickey Ward and be done with her. They certainly deserved better.

Eventually, the pounding behind her eyes faded a little. She was thankful for that, at least. Or she would have been, if she hadn't started to sob uncontrollably. What was wrong with her? She was Hermione fucking Granger! She did not sob on dust covered settees hiding in disused rooms in the dark! This was not her, and she didn't want it to be her, yet here she was. Why was she here?

The door opened, and in walked Severus. Mercifully, he was alone. She had no desire to see anyone, but if someone had been sent to check on her he had been the best choice. She felt less for him. Draco she didn't want to destroy; she'd loathed the way he'd treated her as a child but she understood now he truly couldn't have done much other than what he had done. Luna, sweet kind Luna, didn't deserve her ire. Luna was her best friend. Hermione would dissolve in the face of Luna. And…Scorpius? No, better not to even think about it.

"Hermione, what's wrong, aside from everything?" Severus uttered.

"I have this pounding headache, and it won't stop. And I could have killed Scorpius this morning! Draco didn't seem to be anywhere near as upset as he should have been. I can't do this. Why the hell am I here? WHY!?" Hermione screamed the question, unable to control herself anymore. She was a blubbering snotty mess clutching onto the dirt-covered settee, and she didn't care.

"You have to give yourself some time, Hermione. This isn't something that many of us have experience with. And what do you mean you could have killed Scorpius this morning?"

Hermione told him, in excruciating detail, how and why she had nearly cast a _bombarda maxima_ at Scorpius that morning. She had been reliving the battle, running down one of the many halls to escape Death Eaters after her blood. Her impure, dirty blood. She remembered it all so vividly, and she could have severely hurt or killed an innocent toddler. She would have never forgiven herself. She would not have deserved forgiveness. They should cast her out and forget all about her. They should leave her for dead, because she would be if she hurt that boy.

"Mi, he _is_ fine. He didn't even notice. You've survived a war. You've been fighting for your life since you were eleven years old. It's not something that goes away overnight. It's okay not to feel safe. You haven't been for most of your life," Severus scolded her. He scolded, but gently. The bite was missing from his voice.

"I did _not_ survive! I died, and they're probably all dead too! Don't you get it? What am I doing alive and free when my best friends are probably dead? And by the way, we _only_ had the chance to live at all because you were out there sacrificing yourself for the greater good! Fucking Dumbledore and his scheming arse sacrificing children to megalomaniacs and guilting wayward young men into life long duties bound to end in death," she grumbled through her tears. She found she could breathe now, though. She could breathe better than she had been able to before. Was this a panic attack? She had read about them, but she wasn't sure she had ever had one before.

"I see I am not the only one who believes Dumbledore being lauded as a saint is irritating," Severus quipped back. She looked better, if now irate.

"You saw some of the memories. Grooming children to fight a war, honestly!" Her breathing came easier now, and her eyes were leaking tears instead of her being drowned in them.

"Quite right. I can't say I was the most…discerning wizard, but Albus Dumbledore was Machiavellian."

Hermione barked out a surprised laugh at the comment. "I've always thought so. What is happening to me?"

Severus sat across from her in a green wingback chair. He took in her appearance and observed sunken eyes, hollow cheeks. She looked frail and miserable. He had seen this expression ok himself for years, and he only knew of one way to cure it.

"I believe it is the Occlumency taking its toll on your mind. You're not meant to occlude forever. It should be used sparingly. Hermione from this timeline knows the risks, and she has hidden the memories you need to see behind walls I taught her to make. My guess," he said with a sigh, "is that she was trying to give you some time to adjust to this new place. Unfortunately, I also believe that time is coming to an end. If those shields aren't broken, and soon, the strain on your mind may result in permanent brain damage. The amount that's been occluded being as large as it is…Well, let's just say I'm not sure if you'd have the ability to speak," Severus hedged. He didn't want to frighten the witch but if he was correct in his assessment, and odds were he was, then she needed to know the truth.

"So essentially, my choices are to be permanently brain-damaged, or…what? Is there another option?" she queried acerbically. She still hadn't sat up, afraid the thumping of her mind would only worsen if she did so.

"There is, but there are also risks. If I break the shields for you, it's likely you would end up in a coma. You might be trapped in all those memories forever if you can't meld your memories and lives. You'd have to merge the two versions of yourself as completely as possible to find your way out," he explained quietly. Not really a choice at all. The Hermione he had known had never shied from a challenge. She was fierce and determined, but the witch in front of him didn't resemble that at all. The witch in front of him seemed downtrodden, and at the end of her wits. Though, he could hardly blame her. Her life had been one battle after another, and she'd come here literally from the brink of death in the midst of a large battle. He supposed she was allowed to have a bit of an emotional breakdown before rallying. He certainly had.

Hermione's laugh came unbidden to her lips, and it was hollow, bitter. "Of course, because my life hasn't been hard enough. I don't blame you, not at all, but this is fucking preposterous. My choices are brain damage or a trauma loop. Lovely," she replied sardonically.

Severus didn't like the edge her voice had taken, though he could certainly understand it. A nineteen-year-old witch should not have to suffer like this, and that was why he had done it. At least partially. It was why he had agreed to be the spy, so he would never again see any child with that look on their voice, or hear the tone of voice falling from her lips slicing him to the core. No one deserved such a fate of suffering, aside from perhaps, Tom Riddle himself.

"Fine, break the shields. I don't really have a choice. At least with the trauma loop, I have a chance of survival. I'm not one to quit, never have been," she said firmly from her prone state. Hermione thought fighting for a better life was the better option, and quitting was not in her vocabulary.

Severus looked her over critically and must have been content with what he saw reflected in her eyes. "Alright, I will do it after you eat something. We've no way of knowing how long you're going to be out, but I would wager it will be awhile. Get some food in you first, you'll need the strength." He was being firm with her so she would not argue. He knew she was likely to argue whatever point he made, but she was too logical not to see reason in that. He hoped.

Hermione gave him a small nod of acceptance. "I can't stand up, though. My head is absolutely throbbing. The thought of eating is extremely unpleasant."

Severus slipped his hand into his robe pocket and handed her a vial. He was not a stranger to the adverse effects of Occlumency and had to brew his own headache draught to an unbelievable strength to curtail the pain of it. Thankfully, he used it less and less, no longer needing Occlumency to survive day in and day out.

Hermione took it and tipped the vial without question, lips puckering at the sour taste. "I apologize, lemon was really the only flavor that could cover some of the awful flavors in that potion. Better sour than disgusting," Severus quipped, lips turning up ever so slightly.

"Is this why Dumbledore always had lemon drops? I have to say, it works wonderfully." Already the pressure behind her eyes had lessened, and she could no longer feel her blood rushing through her ears. She let out a sigh of relief, though she was sure it would only be short-lived. She slowly sat up, wary of moving too quickly.

"It should, I brewed it. It was his play on a joke, I suppose. I dislike lemons _vehemently_ ," Severus replied acerbically.

"Well, you're sour enough without them," Hermione joked.

A small smile curled his lips. "Indeed. Come, let's get you fed. The sooner we start the sooner you can wake up, less of a mess," he teased back.

"I'm Hermione Granger. I'm always a mess," she replied back.

"No, your hair is wild. You're not a mess, usually. Right now, you're a mess," Severus replied, pointedly looking at her.

Hermione flushed at the comment and cast some wandless cleaning charms as she stood to follow him. Food first, then broken Occlumency walls and possible insanity. Oh, what a day to be alive. Or die. Or go insane. Whichever.

She met Draco, Luna, and Scorpius back around the table. She knew she looked awful, and Draco was watching her like she might break apart at any moment. He wasn't wrong. She very well could. It wasn't an impossible outcome. Once Scorpius asked to be dismissed and had kissed Hermione's cheek, Hermione and Severus shared their suspicions about what was happening.

Luna just hummed and nodded along, apparently already knowing what was going to happen. Draco frowned, possibly remembering the side effects he'd studied throughout his medical training. He wasn't licensed yet, but he still knew what it meant for the woman across from. He knew she had to break down the shields, or what her fate would be. He was not pleased with the plan presented to him, but he also knew it wasn't as if they could let everyone in on Hermione's secrets.

"I'm not happy about this," Draco commented.

"I'm not particularly pleased by it either, but it's all we've got," Hermione snapped.

"I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it," Draco mumbled.

"It is the only thing we can do. It's the risk you take with Occlumency. Hermione is too Gryffindor to let herself fade, so she's going to fight. She's good at it Draco, just be there and support her. It's all there is," Severus cut in. He had seen the beginning of arguments between these two personalities before. He'd seen enough to know when and how to head off a row.

"Why can't I do it?" Draco sulked.

Hermione's eyes widened slightly, and she looked over to see Draco glaring at his half-empty plate of food. "Draco, Severus has more experience. That's the only reason. If it were just breaking down the shields I'd have you do it the way you did before, for her. But it's not that simple, I don't think. I haven't been able to talk to her. There's something more going on here, and I need to make sure Scorpius at least has you."

"Speaking of my godson, it's best he stays somewhere else for a few days. He doesn't need this trauma," Severus said gently.

"Of course not. I'll get him sent over to Ginny before. That way he has something to keep him busy. I think he's missing his friends, anyway," Draco commented.

"Then it's settled. Let's finish eating, spend some time with Scorpius, and then damage my brain!" Hermione said the last sarcastically.

"That's what we are trying to avoid, witch. Can you not use your sarcasm at appropriate moments?" Severus snarked.

"Why? You never have," Hermione smirked at him, and Draco fought not to spit out his tea.

"I quite like his sense of humor," Luna hummed, cupping his face with her hand and smiling at him.

Hermione only smiled in response, cleared her plate, and sought out Scorpius. She wasn't feeling the best about seeing him after what had almost happened that morning, but he deserved a good memory of his Mum in case she went crazy. She could try to give him that, and she would. Draco followed after her shortly, and found them tucked into the corner of a couch reading one of Scorpius' favorite stories. Draco sat next to them, and when the story was done, maneuvered Scorpius into packing a bag for a few nights so he could go and see his friends. Hermione and Draco saw the little boy through the Floo, and turned to find Severus.

"If something happens to me, and I die, tell him it was an accident or something," Hermione commented.

"Witch you're going to be fine," and his tone left no room for argument.

Severus sat across from Hermione on a low sofa in the sitting room. He had sent Draco and Scorpius out of the room, knowing Luna would handle the situation better. His witch saw things others clearly did not, and panicking was simply not in her blood. She would care for them, and it was best they were not alone while Severus attempted this. He knew there was a probable magical backlash in store for him, but this witch had to drop the shields, or she would perish in front of them. He would not be having that.

His godson was happy for the first time in ages. He'd never seen Draco smile so freely or so brightly as he had with Hermione. Severus could give her back to him, and he was going to do so. "Ready?"

"Oh, not remotely," Hermione snorted her displeasure at the situation. "Let's get this over with," Hermione gave him a wry smile. She was definitely not ready to be trapped in her mind, or have it rip itself apart piece by piece. Her choices were rather limited, however, so she chose the one which gave her the best chance.

Severus simply nodded and put his hands on either side of her face. He normally wouldn't need this amount of touch, but breaking shields could be rather taxing, and he'd rather have the touch and not need than vice versa. Conservation of energy was the best option, here. Hermione dragged her eyes up to his, and she offered no resistance as he slipped into her tumultuous mind.

Severus was at Hogwarts, but this was not the castle he recognized. There were chunks of walls missing. The Great Hall's roof had been hit by something because he could see a section of roof gone. The tower's had been toppled in some places, and some left untouched. He tried to ignore the stench of blood and other bodily fluids that pervaded his sensitive nose. He knew the smell of death all too well.

He fought not to look around at the carnage he knew he would see if he searched for it. This must be the battle Hermione had died in. He didn't want to add this atrocious memory to his own. Severus swiped his hand in front of him, trying to swat away the sounds and smells. He strode single-mindedly over to the barriers he could see. It was no wonder the witch was prone to hysterics. Her mind was literally trapped in a hellscape of death and destruction and pain.

Severus put his thin, long fingers against the barrier which halved her mind. He couldn't see the other side of it clearly, as if it were a frosted pane of glass in front of him. He tested the shield with his magic, hoping her other self would allow him entrance and agree to drop the shields. He could usually talk sense into her, but they were both unbelievably bullheaded. He had his work cut out for him; he knew.

He flared his magic against the shield, a gentle sort of knock. It would be much better for them both if the shield were willingly dropped, instead of shattered. Severus knew better than to think the witch would cooperate, though.

The haze on the barrier lifted and he could see through it now, though he hadn't been granted access. Both versions of Hermione were watching him, though silently. "Can you let me in? I would much rather not cause undue pain by using force to snap this shield."

"I can't. Remember when you taught me? How you said I was a natural?"

"Ah. So it's not just you keeping these in place, but the both of you, and neither of you can break them now. Bollocks," Severus heaved a sigh. "This is going to hurt. All of us. I had thought this might have happened when you weren't getting memory flashes anymore," he commented at the Hermione now standing next to him. She was covered in blood, her clothes tattered and torn asunder. She was also painfully thin.

"I've been on the run. Or had been, rather, before the battle. Not much food to come by," she commented wryly.

"I can see that. Come, both of you. Help me with this, and it might go easier." Both versions of Hermione, on battle-weary, the other a vision of a Malfoy witch, stepped closer to him.

"What do you want us to do?" Hermione Malfoy asked.

"Just will the barrier to dissolve. I will do the rest," Severus muttered. He was already concentrating on bringing down the barrier. The two witches did as he instructed, hands placed opposite one another on the pane of glass between them.

Severus could feel when they joined him, and he forced a sudden burst of magic through the barrier and envisioned it shattering as if hit with a large sledgehammer in the center. The shield didn't shatter, but there were cracks webbing out from the center of the barrier now.

Severus tried again, and the cracks grew larger, longer. Hermione started to growl next to him, obviously feeling the pressure of what he was doing in her mind. She didn't give up, though. The witch was made of stouter stuff than that, and he'd witnessed it more than once.

Severus pulled his magic into himself, drawing the hammer of his mind back far and wide, and swung it one final time against the shields. He threw all of his magic into it, and the shield shattered around them. Both versions of Hermione screamed, and then everything ceased. There was no sensation of being thrown out, no sensation of being pulled in, just delicious, sweet nothingness.

Luna cast a cushioning charm on the floor in front of the couch when she felt the swell of Severus' magic, knowing this would be it. She'd seen what could happen when a wizard or witch was thrown from a mind and doubted it would be nothing short of violent.

She had been correct. Hermione and Severus were unconscious, slumping to the floor. Luna called for Draco, who cast diagnostic charms on them. He had been checking on Scorpius.

"Hermione is well and truly locked in her mind for now. Severus has drained his magical core and will sleep for a time. All we can do is wait," Draco told Luna grimly.

Luna took his hand to comfort him, "They will be fine Draco. Scorpius is with the Potter's?"

"Yes." The word was clipped. Draco was containing his emotions, and Luna let him. He'd not had an easy week.

"Help me get them to bed, and we can call Hannah to watch over them," Luna ordered sensibly. Draco simply did as he was asked. They levitated their loved ones into their beds, made them as comfortable as possible, and sent for the Healer, again.

"Remind me again why this was the best decision?" Draco requested of Luna after he had pulled his head out of the Floo grate.

"Because, it's the only way she has a chance at life," Luna said plainly. Her voice was serious, none of the playful lilt present that she usually had.

"Right. That." Draco left the sitting room to find his witch. Maybe if he held her hand, Hermione would come back to him sooner rather than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This has always been one of my favorite poems, and it definitely reminded me of this chapter in a way. I've always held a love for poetry, and this is one I come back to so very often. I also have more news for you lovelies! I think this is going to end up being about 23 chapters, and I've got them plotted out. ;) Now, that being said, sometimes things happen in the creative process, so 23 chapters is an estimate. As always, let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione sees how different experiences and actions have changed her counterpart in this timeline, and she learns some new things about her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things could become somewhat hinky in the coming chapters my lovelies! I'm trying to simultaneously show you what Hermione is remembering without neglecting Draco, Severus or Luna. Let me know what you think about it!

***Memory***

_ Hermione shook her head. Malfoy didn’t want to be a Death Eater. Good for him finding his Slytherin self-preservation. Theodore Nott didn’t either. She had dried her tears and found a determination to confront the Headmaster. They were children raised to be hateful bigots, but they didn’t want to be. She was about to give them a choice. She was going to force the Headmaster to give them a choice. He owed her that, at least, for keeping Harry alive this long. _

_ Hermione stomped up to the gargoyle, brassed off she didn’t know the current password. She sighed and started to recite every candy she could think of, “Lemon drop, licorice wands, pumpkin pasty, treacle tart, butterbeer… Ah, there it is. He really needs a better list of passwords.” _

_ The gargoyle hopped out of the way and the stairs began to rotate. Hermione jumped on board and rode the stairs to the top. She knocked on the door to the Headmaster’s office and waited. _

_ “Come in,” called the Headmaster. _

_ Hermione entered the office and was surrounded by all of the Headmaster’s trinkets. Fawkes sat on his usual perch and trilled a hello at her. Hermione smiled and went to stroke his head, “You look well, Fawkes.” _

_ “Hello, Miss Granger. How can I help you this evening?” Dumbledore asked, emerging from behind a tapestry in purple, sparkly robes. _

_ “Well, Headmaster, I’m going to need your assistance,” Hermione replied seriously, still stroking Fawkes’ feathers. _

_ “Do take a seat dear,” Dumbledore motioned with his hand for Hermione to sit at one of the chairs across from his desk, as he sat down. Hermione followed suit. “What can I help you with?” _

_ “Draco Malfoy, and Theodore Nott. They need to be hidden, removed entirely from the clutches of their families’ influence. Neither one of them want to be Death Eaters, and if they refuse, they’ll likely be put to their deaths,” she said with no preamble. _

_ Dumbledore didn’t seem surprised. The man was evidently unflappable. “While I would like to help them, Miss Granger, I don’t see how it would be possible for them to safely defect.” _

_ “You mean you don’t see how it’s possible for them to defect and you lose two possible spies,” Hermione commented bitterly. “You will do this, and you will help me do this for anyone from Slytherin house who asks. You will hide them safely and successfully, and I will find you another spy to bring down Voldemort,” Hermione replied firmly. _

_ Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at her, “Why would you think that would be the issue, Miss Granger?” _

_ “Because, Albus, she is no fool,” came the acerbic reply of Severus Snape. “I have been telling you for months those boys want nothing to do with Voldemort, and I will not force them into spying for you. I will not watch you force them either. They are not made for it,” Snape said, taking the other seat. _

_ Hermione looked over at him and nodded, thankful she had backup to deal with the Headmaster. Hermione had spoken to him on a whim and was glad she had. “Severus, you can’t honestly expect me to fix all the wrongs in the world, can you?” _

_ Hermione scoffed at Dumbledore, “You are the symbol for the light, act like it! I have done everything you have asked of me. I have kept Harry safe! I will not watch classmates die because it doesn’t fit into your idea of the “greater good.” These are students! If they were in Hufflepuff you wouldn’t think twice. Put your prejudices to bed, Headmaster. The time is long since passed for such things,” Hermione lectured. _

_ Professor Snape raised his eyebrows at her but didn’t interrupt or comment. She figured she must be doing well on her own. “And what, pray tell, would you have me do with these students who wish to run away from the war their families’ are waging?” Dumbledore hissed acidicly. _

_ There you are, Dumbledore. I knew the doddering old fool act couldn’t last forever, Hermione thought. “Try and read my mind, Headmaster. Try. Professor Snape can’t, and I bet you can’t either. I will be your bloody spy and I will ensure Voldemort’s dead before Christmas,” Hermione smirked at him. _

_ Dumbledore made eye contact with the little witch. She could feel the Headmaster’s attempts to read her mind, but she knew he wouldn’t get anywhere. Hermione’s mindscape was a difficult one to traverse. She had sealed all of her memories inside a vault, one like she had seen on an episode of “Doctor Who,” dropped the vault to the bottom of a lake, and had set up her mind like a veritable house of mirrors. _

_ “Whilst that is impressive, Miss Granger, you would never be accepted into their ranks as one of their own,” Dumbledore mocked. _

_ “I don’t have to be me, don’t you get it? I can be anyone. I can mimic anyone, and I have a plan to kill him, and someone to vouch for me on the inside,” Hermione mocked back. “You want me to be an arrogant blood supremacist? Fine, I can do that. The point is, you don’t really get a choice anymore. Your only choice is to remove these boys from school and sequester them somewhere safe. You have three days. I suggest you figure out how to fake their deaths posthaste, because my introduction has already been made to Voldemort,” Hermione seethed at him. _

_ “Severus, you dared go behind my back and endanger a student! A Muggle-born student?!” the Headmaster rose from his seat, the air in his office becoming dense with his ire. _

_ Hermione sat unaffected by the magical presence surrounding her. “Oh give it a rest Albus! I did nothing of the sort. The witch did it on her own and sought me out after the fact. She isn’t stupid Albus. She’s one of the brightest minds Hogwarts has ever seen, and well you know it.” _

_ To punctuate Professor Snape’s point, Hermione flicked her fingers from her sitting position and took the wind out of the Headmaster’s sails. The magical pressure dissipated almost immediately. “Like he said, Headmaster. I’m fucking brilliant. Now, are you with me or against me? Because honestly, I don’t have the time to fight you, but I will if I have to.” _

_ Dumbledore sat down, apparently at a loss of how to continue the conversation. He had never seen a student exhibit such casual use of power. How had he missed the increase in Miss Granger’s magical core? Where had she been honing her skills? Had Minerva known and kept this information from him? _

_ “Fine, Miss Granger. You have proven your point. I will figure something out. I’m sure I’ve got a suitable property somewhere,” Dumbledore replied dejectedly. _

_ “Acceptable. It will be something better than the dump you tried to secret Sirius away into, and I will be its Secret Keeper,” Hermione said firmly. Of course, Hermione had far more in mind than a simple Fidelius for this property. No, that would not do and she had conducted extensive research to ensure the rescued snakes would be safe. _

_ “As you wish,” Dumbledore made a push-away gesture with both hands. “What’s the plan for killing Voldemort?” _

_ “All in good time. Severus thinks it’s a sound plan, and that will have to suffice to sate your curiosity for now,” Hermione replied airily. She could see Severus smirking from the corner of her eye. He was obviously amused at her treatment of the Headmaster, but he knew all too well the type of bitterness that Albus Dumbledore could foster. He had experienced it himself many times and found it had never really left. _

_ Dumbledore shook his head and looked to Snape for confirmation, who gave it in the form of a curt nod. Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh, “I can see I’ve been outplayed here, and you’ll not give me another choice. I’ll alert you as soon as I’ve figured out a home for your wayward snakes. I presume you two can stage something to vanish them? I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” _

_ Severus and Hermione shared an exasperated look. Of course, Dumbledore would foist this task onto them, but thankfully they had expected it and had a plan. A plan which involved an awful and tragic Quidditch accident, which might require a jinxed broom and an unfortunate crash into the Slytherin stands, and a few vials of the Draught of Living Death. See? They had thought about it. They knew Dumbledore would balk at the act of getting his hands dirty. They were, obviously, correct in this assumption. _

_ “Fine, we’ll handle it, just like we’ve handled everything else for you. Have the safe house ready by Saturday. If it isn’t, they’ll be your roommates until then,” Severus’ lips were curled in disdain. Hermione could not blame him. She had seen some of his memories, and she might hate the Headmaster on Severus’ behalf from what she had seen. _

_ Dumbledore shook his head again, “Tell Minerva I had to step out to make some preparations. She can handle the school for a day. I’ll be back tomorrow with a safe house.” _

_ Hermione and Severus took it for the dismissal it was. They stood and left the Headmaster to ponder how he had so completely lost his grasp on his minions and dutiful pawns. They had a battle to plan, and apparently some deaths to stage. _

_ “Can you take care of informing Malfoy and Nott? I’ll go tell Minerva what’s going on. She’ll be pleased to finally be able to do something, “Hermione chuckled and paused, thinking. “Actually, let’s pull Zabini out too. I know his family isn’t involved and has tried to stay neutral, but old Moldy Pants is going to pursue him heavily after the loss of Malfoy and Nott.” _

_ “I was thinking the same. You really should have been sorted into Slytherin, Hermione,” Severus quirked his lips at her and continued, “We can duplicate all the items they have with them here at school and send them ahead to the safe house. That way they won’t be completely bereft.” _

_ “Good thinking. See you in a bit. I’ll come down and help you brew after I’ve spoken to Minerva,” Hermione was waved off by Severus as she went in the direction of her head of house’s quarters. Severus didn’t think he would ever see the day a student would come along calling him by his given name of all people, but Hermione Granger was a witch to be reckoned with, and she was far too intelligent to be seated in a class of her peers. She needed a challenge, and she had gone looking for it. _

_ Hermione Granger had been working tirelessly on a way to rid the world of Voldemort since she witness Harry Potter pulled from the bowels of Hogwarts holding the Sorcerer’s Stone. Since she had witnessed the chaos and near destruction a diary delivered to an unsuspecting eleven-year-old Ginevra Weasely. Hermione had researched endlessly, she scoured, she toiled, she trawled, and she been successful in her pursuits. _

_ Hermione had figured out the diary had been a Horcrux at the beginning of her third year, and she had abused her Time-Turner privileges to find every single scrap of information she could glean from Hogwarts. When she hit a dead end, she had gone directly to Severus Snape, who had insisted she learn Occlumency immediately. _

_ Seeing no point to an argument over something so sensible, they had begun later that day. It had taken her a few weeks, but she’d developed an “acceptable” skill level, according to her Professor. Then, and only then, had Snape agreed to assist her in her possibly barmy and definitely dangerous plans. He had brought in Minerva nearly immediately after discovering the possibility that Harry Potter was a likely Horcrux. _

_ Minerva McGonagall might currently be the Transfiguration professor, but the witch was highly intelligent. She was also a member of a coven, a very powerful coven. With her help they might stand a chance at ridding Potter of the foul piece of Voldemort which was staining the boy’s soul; hopefully without him having to die first. So far as Severus could tell, Voldemort didn’t know it existed, yet. Hermione was most insistent that Harry Potter not die, and Severus supposed he could understand her vehement opposition to the notion. He also would have done much to ensure Regulus Black had lived. _

_ Hermione quickly found herself at the entrance of her favorite Professor’s quarters, rapping firmly on the door to announce her presence. Within moments, Minerva had opened the door and was ushering the younger witch inside to warm by the fire. The castle was always a little chilly. _

_ “Hermione, what are you doing here so late?” Minerva asked her sternly. _

_ “Well, I’ve just had a bit of a row with the Headmaster, you see,” she said pointedly. _

_ “When?” Minerva cut to the chase, as was her way. _

_ “Parts have already been put into play. We need to clear Harry and inform the Order. We’re going to get those we can out this weekend,” Hermione replied. _

_ Minerva sighed but nodded. “Alright. I still think you’re daft, but it will probably work. I just wish you didn’t put yourself so firmly in harm’s way, Hermione,” Minerva said warmly. _

_ Hermione smiled at her. “Unfortunately, I’m not willing to ask this of anyone else. I’m sure you can understand the sentiment, Minerva.” _

_ “Aye, lass, but that doesn’t mean I’m pleased you’re the one in danger. At least you have Severus. I don’t know what Albus was thinking. Harry Potter is a wonderful boy, kind, but he is simply not cut out for this. He should have been raised properly in our world, instead of being abused by the Muggle family,” Minerva replied hotly. She had never agreed with Albus that it was wise to remove Harry from the Wizarding world. Minerva would have taken the boy in herself. _

_ “I can’t argue with you there, Professor. Harry has suffered more than enough. I want to make sure he doesn’t lose anything or anyone else to Voldemort. I’m simply better equipped to handle this, so I will see it done and ensure we are rid of the madman once and for all,” Hermione commented firmly. _

_ “I believe you will, dear girl. You impressed Severus and that is no easy feat. I’m sure you’re aware of it.” _

_ Hermione smiled at her Professor, friend, and pseudo-mother. She had been living with Minerva since the end of third year. Her parents had tried to be supportive but ultimately realized their inability to understand Hermione and her newest passions, namely magic. They just could keep with all her leaps, and Minerva had found her lost in grief in an alcove off the fourth-floor corridor, sobbing and bereft over a letter her parents had sent her. _

_ They had written to her to tell her they were moving out of Britain, but the house would be available for her use should she have need of it. Minerva had something in Gaelic, ushered the distraught witch into her office, and administered a calming draught. Hermione had since come to understand some of the Gaelic language, though the memory wasn’t clear enough for her to have made out the words clearly. _

_ Once Hermione had calmed some, Minerva got the full story out of her. Hermione’s head of house told her, in no uncertain terms, she would not be returning to that house and she would instead be living with Minerva. The rest, as they say, was history. Minerva became her family as much as Harry, her friend, her home. _

_ “I’ve always impressed Severus, he just finally admitted it,” Hermione replied cheekily. _

_ “Aye, that might very well be. He was always harshest on you and your assignments. I think it’s only because he thought you were intelligent enough to grasp his instruction and to learn from it. He largely doesn’t bother with the rest of the student body. Then again, you have always impressed us all,” Minerva smiled at her. _

_ “Thank you. Let nothing stand in the way of a determined witch,” Hermione grinned at her, then change tact. “Can you have the coven ready by this weekend? We need to take care of Harry before we move any further and inform the Order. I will not have him used against us.” _

_ “Of course, we’ve been waiting. We will have his mind cleared of that monster in a matter of hours and we can move forward without such a worry.” _

_ “Lovely. Severus is going to be informing Malfoy, Nott, and Zabini. It may be nothing short of a gilded cage, but at least they’ll be safe. And they won’t be forced to kill anyone or take the Dark Mark,” Hermione said grimly, mouth set in a straight line. _

_ “It’s a brave and kind thing you’re doing Hermione. There are not many people who would trust Draco Malfoy solely on his word.” _

_ “I’ve watched him, Minerva. He is not as he seems. I’ve been privy to conversations others have not. I’ve seen the fear in him, in them. They don’t want to be Death Eaters anymore than I would. Given the choice, in private or away from prying eyes, Malfoy is quite kind to me, and he is terrified for himself and his mother,” Hermione replied thoughtfully, thinking of the library and when he asked for her help. “Of course, not many would believe me. Harry will be furious when he finds out, at first, and then he will realize the truth of what Draco Malfoy had to do. It is not an easy thing, to defy everything you’ve ever known and been taught.” _

_ “Quite right. Go and do your scheming then. I’m sure there is much to put into place,” Minerva said. _

_ Hermione smiled at her and took her leave, gratefully. She went to help her acerbic and dour, yet brilliant, Potions Master brew the Draught of Living Death for a few of his students, and one of his dearest and oldest friends. Hermione wondered if her life would ever reach a point of normalcy. Somehow, she doubted it was likely. _

*6 Hours after the Legillimancy Session*

Medi-Witch Abbott had come and gone. She assured them she would be back in a few hours time to assess the state of their loved ones, but that by and large they were both okay. Hermione seemed to be locked into a deep sleep, which is what Draco had known would happen. She had to fight her way back out, fight her way back to him. If she could not, she would die, and a part of Draco would die with her.

Luna had forced him to eat dinner, though he truly couldn’t fathom the concept of eating while his wife was in such a state. His godfather was better off, only drained magically and needing a significant amount of rest. Regardless, his knowledge brought him little peace of mind. His companion had urged him to rest, so he would be well when his wife returned to him, but he could not find sleep.

Instead, Draco sat up next to Hermione’s bedside, and read to her what she had confided was her favorite book; “Hogwarts: A History.” Granted, Draco might have found this to be his favorite book too if it were the first magical text he had read, and he could understand the fantasy and joy behind the reading of it. Even as someone who had been raised in a magical home, Hogwarts held a special place in his heart.

He warred with himself quietly, wondering where he should start. In the end, he decided it was always best to start at the beginning, and so he read to her late into the night. His panicked thoughts and worried heart finally gave way to quiet, and he drifted off at her bedside, book still open and resting in his lap. When he awoke, he was in bed beside her and saw fit to cuddle into her side carefully and sleep some more, hoping this too would bring her peace.

She had often said sometimes his scent could soothe her distress far faster than anything else, so he gave as much as he could to her with his proximity. He saw no harm in seeking out the same peace and comfort as he lay next to her, breathing her scent in just as deeply. Perhaps it would serve as a reminder to them both not to give up.

*Memory*

_ The match was today, and Hermione was a bundle of nerves. She didn’t show it outwardly, of course. Severus had taught her better than that, and he would be quite cross with his student for not listening to his careful teaching instructions. Hermione would behave as she usually would, but inwardly she was so scared of something going amiss with their plan she could only manage tea for breakfast. She didn’t foresee a lot of meals in her future. _

_ She had been dragged down to the Quidditch pitch much like she always was. She had never developed a taste for the brutality of the game, and found it rather distasteful. She always had, and it was often something that her friends teased her about. She had tried to provoke an interest in the sport, but it was not meant to be, and she would much rather never be forced to watch another game. She was unlikely to get her wish. _

_ The snitch was released, and the Slytherin and Ravenclaw teams shot into action. Hermione knew this game was not going to have a happy ending, and as such really could not be bothered to watch. Her physical attendance may have become mandatory over the years, but Hermione always brought a book with her. She decided now was a lovely time to lose herself in her reading, and promptly did so after taking a seat between Harry and Neville. _

_ By and large lost in her story of fiction, she missed “accident” entirely. She looked up to the horrified gasps and screams of other onlookers. She shot a look at the green stands only to see the bodies of Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zabini all terribly and awfully contorted. She knew Severus had jinxed Draco’s broom to send him careening into the stands and into his two classmates. All three of them were to drink the draught at a specified time, and three minutes exactly after, Severus would cause an accident. _

_ They would not be in pain, which Hermione was immensely thankful for seeing their broken bones, lacerations, and otherwise ragdoll like positions over the side of the railing. Hermione fought not to vomit then and there, knowing that this had mostly been her plan. She would not like to see them in pain but knew she would be escorting them to the safe house with Snape hours later. _

_ Severus, in his wisdom, had found a way to create fakes of the three boys to be collected for burial by their families. Of course, Narcissa would know it was not really her son, but she was the only one who needed to be told. Hermione was several times assured that Narcissa Malfoy was an accomplished Occlumens and would have no qualms keeping the information to herself. Hermione was trusting Severus in regard to this. _

_ The match was called shortly thereafter, none of the players willing to risk being jinxed similarly, and Madam Hooch was in a frightful state. She had been the referee for nearly 20 years, and since she had been overlooking the Quidditch pitch, death rates had drastically and quickly declined. Hermione couldn’t imagine what it must have been like before the pitch had been charmed. She really did not want to know. _

_ Hermione followed her friends back up to the common room and got them settled in before she went in search of her three wayward Slytherin’s. This was not an easy day, and the days to follow would only be more difficult for her. _

_ Hermione had convened with Severus in his chambers much later into the night. All three families came and went, beside themselves with the accident and the deaths of their children. Hermione would have told them they were alright if their families weren’t what they had been trying to escape in the first place. But they were, so she tried to remain strong in the face of their pain and do her job. _

_ With no fuss, Hermione asked Severus, “You remember the location?” _

_ He scoffed, “Of course I do. You take Draco and I’ll take Mr. Nott and Mr. Zabini. I think it will be easier for me to take two, whilst you only take one.” _

_ Hermione nodded at her Potions Professor and gently took Draco’s hand. She could see that while their parents had been grieving, Severus had been working to heal the wounds the crash had caused his students. Hermione was pleased about this, of course, not wanting them to wake up in massive amounts of pain. She apparated directly with Draco to the sitting room of Idyll Cottage. _

_ Severus was quick behind her. They were the only two who could apparate into and out of this property. They had made it Unplottable and added blood wards of Severus’ own making to ward off outsiders. This place could not be found by any who didn’t already know of it. It could not be entered unless those persons came with either Severus or Hermione. _

_ “Let’s get them to their rooms and administer the antidotes. The less time they are in the suspended state, the easier it will be for them to bounce back from it,” Severus ordered. _

_ “Of course. Let’s take care of our new pet birds,” Hermione commented wryly. _

_ Severus let out a rather put-upon sigh before saying, “Hermione, this might be a cage for them, but they know they will be safer here than you or I will. They have consented to staying here. You know all this, so stop feeling guilty at the idea of leaving them here in peace whilst you and I go off to fight a war.” _

_ “I know you’re right, Severus. That does not mean it makes me feel any less horrid,” Hermione said. He let it drop, because of course, he understood all too well the necessary evils one might have to involve oneself in. Sometimes, no matter how necessary, the guilt was great and there wasn’t much to be done for it. Severus might have learned to Occlude just for that purpose if he hadn’t already. _

_ Idyll Cottage was, in a word, picturesque. It was peaceful and quiet. It was surrounded by wonderful foliage and grassy fields. There were trees aplenty, certainly not enough to qualify as a forest, but plenty to get lost in if the need arose. There were gardens and a small lake, as well. _

_ The Cottage was certainly not the size one might think of when one heard the word, “cottage.” It was rather large, with ten suites and eight other bedrooms. There was a library, several sitting rooms, a large and usable kitchen, and a formal dining room. It would be comfortable for them, even if they could not leave the grounds. _

_ Hermione followed Severus to the east wing of suites and settled Draco down into a bed. She knew if a person was under the influence of the Draught of Living Death for too long, it could actually kill them. Due to the nature of the potion, it required a slow waking if the person had been suspended long. Thankfully, that was not the case with these three patients. Hermione cast a diagnostic charm on Draco, something Severus had taught her, and saw that he had sustained a broken arm as well as three fractured ribs. Considering the high-speed crash he had been a part of, it was not all that bad. _

_ Hermione was confident Draco could handle the pain of this long enough for her to get a pain potion in him, so she administered the remedy and waited impatiently for Draco Malfoy to open his eyes. Within two minutes, he had gasped awake and his eyes sought her out. For a moment or two, she could see his expression unguarded. She could see the fear and worry in his eyes until he locked them away behind his own Occlumency shields. _

_ “I’m not dead, then?” _

_ “No, my dear ferret, you are not. You have several broken bones, though. Drink this,” Hermione ordered brusquely. _

_ Draco rolled his eyes at the term of endearment but took the potion with no argument. “Thanks, Granger.” _

_ “Don’t thank me yet, you’ll need to regrow those bones,” Hermione smirked. _

_ “Yeah the Skel’O’Grow will be disgusting, but thanks anyway,” Draco replied sincerely. _

_ “You are most welcome, Malfoy.” She handed him a measured vial of the potion. “Chug that, I have water here for you. Do you want Dreamless Sleep?” _

_ Draco knocked back the nasty potion, grasped for the water, and chugged that as well before answering. “Yes, please. But don’t leave any out where we can get to it. None of us sleep particularly well and we are all a little addicted to it.” _

_ “Oh, me too. How do you think I function day to day?” Hermione quipped, setting it out for him. She smirked. “Dobby!” _

_ Dobby popped into the room, looking a little hesitant at the boy in the bed. “Yes, Missy Hermione?” _

_ “Dobby, Draco, and two others, Mr. Zabini and Mr. Nott, will be staying here for the foreseeable future. Please help them if they need something, and please come to me if they need me. Owls are not a safe form of communication. I know I can trust you with this.” _

_ Hermione looked at Draco askance to see his mouth open in shock. He undoubtedly didn’t think to see his former elf here, taking orders from Hermione Granger. She really couldn’t blame him, but she had to get back to the school before she was missed. _

_ “ Dobby will do as Miss bids,” the elf said with a smile. “Young Mr. Malfoy was never mean or cruel to Dobby, that was Dobby’s old wicked master who is not his master anymore.” _

_ “Good. I’m glad there is no bad blood between the two of you. Take care of them, Dobby. I doubt any of them can cook, and I just saved their lives so make sure they don’t starve, if you please,” Hermione chuckled good naturedly. _

_ “Of course they can't be cooking Miss!” Dobby growled at her and then popped out of the room. _

_ “Well, I never thought I would see that,” Draco commented breathily. _

_ “There are a lot of things that are going to be happening. This place is Unplottable. Only Severus and I can get in. If you need us, send Dobby. He knows how to be discreet when he needs to be. I’ll come back as soon as I can to check on you. Or Severus. Whichever one of us Is freer to do so,” Hermione rattled off. She knew she had to be getting back to campus soon. _

_ “Done. Check. Will do. Got it. Thank you, again,” Draco replied. She smiled at him, and disapparated without another word.  _


End file.
